Health, Wealth, and Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 4)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

Bryce shook his head. “I’ll pass the information on to the guys working the Malachi case.”

  “I really would like to know what happened to Haven.” Jane didn’t look away from the detective, hoping her confidence would move him in her favor.

  He scratched the back of his neck. “I can’t do that.” He looked at Jake again and frowned. “But if you hear anything else while you’re cleaning, you can…” He turned to Jane, putting his back fully to Jake. “You can always call me.” He did the dimply half-smile thing again, apparently giving flirting one last shot.

  Jake swiveled in his chair and scowled at Jane.

  She drummed her fingers on her knee. Really, her call to Bryce had been the farthest thing from asking for a date that she could imagine. If either of these two boys thought she was asking for more than just information, they were both daft. She stood up. “Next time I’ll ask for the right person. Sorry to bother you.”

  Bryce shrugged. “Let me give you a piece of advice. If you want to solve murders, join the force. If you want to be a private eye, catch cheating husbands. Don’t try and mix the two. It just doesn’t work.”

  He nodded at Jake and left.

  Jane watched him from the office window. He trudged across the parking lot to his car, hands shoved in his pockets, head down.

  “You’re a mean girl, Janey.” Jake laughed.

  “I admit my phone call didn’t make me sound like the most professional woman in the world, but I did not imply at all that this would be a date.”

  “Not even with the way your eyes lit up when you saw him?” Jake blushed the lightest shade of pink and made a sad puppy face.

  “You can hardly blame me. He’s a very handsome detective.” Jane fluttered her eyes and laughed. “Please. Let’s get back to business. Detective Bryce didn’t seem inclined to take me into his confidence, but he is going to try and find the missing child. So that alone made this evening worthwhile. Right?”

  “Absolutely. And the good news, I have to admit, is that he digs you, so I bet you ten bucks he’ll call back. You can do something with him, in re a police contact. I don’t like it, but you can.”

  Jane made a disgusted face. “I think you’re right. But I think I’d better not go that route. It strikes me as especially unwise.”

  Jake’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  Thirteen

  Knowing that the Haven Malachi situation was in good hands didn’t make dusting off the family portraits that no longer had her in them any less painful. How do you go on after a child disappears? How do you go on, acting like nothing happened, running a ministry promising that a holy life will be fruitful in the dollars sense, after something like that?

  Jane set down the crystal-framed family portrait of Christiana, Josiah, and two handsome boys in their early teens. She recognized Theo by his freckles. The other was captured in a moment of adolescent awkwardness. Skinny with bad skin and braces. She could see a hint of the pretty boy he had been, but she didn’t think she would have guessed the two boys were the same.

  She ran her duster across the deep wood mantel, noting the individual shots of all family members except the missing one.

  If the Malachi family was truly devout in their beliefs, then they could move on from a tragic loss by the power of God. He would give them the strength and joy to make it through their tragedy. But she and Jake had spent the rest of last evening watching old event video footage on YouTube, everything that had been posted since 2010, and not once had the family mentioned the missing child. They hadn’t talked about their grief or what God had done to help them get through it. For a preacher, a sincere preacher, this would have been impossible.

  She took her feather duster to the corners of the built-in bookshelves. Josiah did talk, twice, about stepparenting and helping the boys deal with the loss of their stable two-parent home. So her previous belief that he had tried to pass them off as his own was mistaken. He also talked about how his wife had married and divorced before being saved and what that meant to him as a man of God in light of scripture on divorce. He gave that talk just once, at an event in San Francisco.

  Perhaps he gave more liberal sermons in more liberal cities. But not once had his missing daughter been mentioned.

  He had cried over other tragedies. He had, in fact, openly wept when his mother-in-law died in 2012.

  Jane pinched her eyes shut. The complete lack of exploiting his daughter’s disappearance could be explained in two ways. One, it had been so much more painful than anything else they had ever experienced that he was not able to discuss it in any form, or, two, Haven was fine. She was safe, and everyone knew where she was.

  Jane exhaled. That, of course, was the real answer.

  The child was safe. Christiana knew where she was, and that was what she told Nick in private the last day the child had been mentioned out loud while non-family members were in the room.

  So, if the child, now teenager, was safe and sound, where was she? And why was everything about her a huge secret?

  And what, if anything, did it have to do with Josiah’s murder?

  Jane finished dusting and got out her vacuum. Before she could plug it in, a stocky blond man pushed a woman in a wheelchair into the room. Tiffany and Lucas?

  Jane smiled and nodded and moved to the back of the room with her vacuum. The man had the weathered look of a skier. She’d guess he was in his early thirties. The woman was younger and, with her thick black hair and rich mahogany skin, could easily be from India.

  “Don’t mind us.” The man shot a quick, friendly smile at Jane.

  A few other people shuffled into the room, including a really small, thin, older Asian man…perhaps “Win.”

  She took Lucas up on his friendly offer to stick around and listen. She made her way back to the bookshelf and settled down in front of it. Seven shelves of rental-house hardbacks should give her plenty to dust while the task force talked. She pulled one out and gently wiped the top and the spine and then replaced it. Yes, this was the right job.

  “Thank you, that’s fine.” The speaker was a woman, with warm, round tones to her voice, as though English was her second language but she hadn’t used her first in many, many years. Obviously, the orphan from India, Tiffany. “Don’t say anything until Evelyn gets here.”

  Jane turned to the side to reach the books at the end of the shelf, glad for a reason to be able to see what was going on. Lucas sat on the arm of the couch, his hand resting on his wife’s back. She was settled into the couch with a pillow behind her. The handles of her wheelchair were showing above the back of the couch, but just barely. “Win” sat in the wingback chair, his head resting on the back and his eyes closed.

  Without opening his eyes, he spoke. “Evelyn,” he sighed heavily. “She won’t like.”

  Tiffany laughed, the light, airy notes to her voice a comforting sound. “Not at first, no, but Lucas will help her see. And Robert will be for it, if he ever shows up.” She checked her watch.

  “You’re with me, right, Nguyen? Christiana needs a rest. Deserves a rest. I hate to see her pushing herself like this when clearly she is at her breaking point.” Lucas had big blue eyes, the kind with pale eyelashes, set in a round German face. He was handsome and looked kind.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Nguyen nodded. “I think she need rest.”

  “I agree, the poor lady.” Tiffany looked over her shoulder. “Where is she, anyway?”

  “She said she’d be at the gym all morning, so this is a good time to meet,” Lucas said.

  Evelyn joined them. She dumped a heavy purse and a winter coat on the back of the armchair she sat in. “What’s this about, then?” She held her fist to her mouth and coughed. Her nose was red and her cheeks flushed. It wasn’t particularly cold out, so the health part of the health-and-wealth philosophy must have been failing her.

  “Evelyn, can I get you some tea?” Tiffany asked. “Something warm for your throat?”

&nb
sp; Evelyn coughed again.

  Jane gritted her teeth. She needed to stay quietly where she was. To go unnoticed so they would be completely frank with her there. But she hated, hated sending the girl in the wheelchair into the kitchen to make tea, when she ought to offer to do it.

  “No, thanks.” Evelyn lifted a Starbucks cup. “I got something on the way.”

  Jane stifled a sigh of relief. She needed to be invisible, at least for this conversation.

  “I’m glad you could come.” Lucas stood up and took her hand, giving her a warm, two-handed shake. “I am worried about Christiana. She’s working herself to the bone.”

  “That’s what she does,” Evelyn said.

  “But she doesn’t need to.” Tiffany ran her hand through her long, thick black hair, the waves cascading over her shoulder. Jane was mesmerized for the moment. Tiffany seemed so serene and strong despite her mobility difficulties. “We’re here for her. That’s the point of us, isn’t it? To support the ministry any way possible.”

  “True, true.” Nguyen was also serene, his eyes still closed, his head still reclined behind him. But as he had an overall stillness of body, he seemed as though he was meditating, rather than resting.

  “What do you want to do about it? It’s not like anyone has ever been able to tell Christiana how to do anything. Except Josiah, of course.” Evelyn dabbed at her nose with a tissue.

  “I want to give her a rest. At least until after the funeral. Or maybe even after the investigation is over.” Lucas began to pace the room, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

  “You want to cancel the camp revival? That’s an awful idea,” Evelyn said. “My brother wouldn’t have liked that at all.”

  “No, I don’t want to cancel it.” Lucas paused beside Evelyn’s chair and rested his hand on her arm. “I just want to let her rest and be blessed during it, rather than preach.”

  “And who do you suggest preach instead?” Evelyn asked.

  “Lucas.” Nguyen opened his eyes. “It should be Lucas. Josiah prepare him for this day. Always teaching. Always working with Lucas.” He smiled.

  “Oh!” Tiffany said. “Would you be willing, Lucas? It would be so wonderful if you would step up, take on Josiah’s mantle. Lead the work.” She sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Just for the time, until Christiana has recovered.”

  “If Lucas is willing to do it, I don’t see why Christiana should say no. It’s not like she’s after the spotlight.” Evelyn erupted in a fit of coughing that had her bent over.

  After she had caught her breath, Lucas knelt down beside her. “Have you had enough of this misery yet?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Most definitely.” Evelyn had a sparkle in her eye and chuckled too.

  “Then let’s pray.” He placed his hand on her back.

  Nguyen rose and joined Lucas, laying a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.

  Tiffany folded her hands where she was.

  Jane closed her eyes and prayed her own prayer, for Evelyn’s health, and for wisdom and discernment as she tried to untangle the case.

  It was hard to spot the murderer in a group of people that seemed so genuinely nice.

  Fourteen

  The small group had broken up after they had prayed over Evelyn. As far as Jane could see, nothing had been resolved, but Christiana’s son Theo had wandered into the living room. He sat in the middle of the couch and spread his arms across the back of it.

  “Isn’t this a regular meeting of the minds?” He sneered in a practiced way.

  “Mornin’, Theo.” Tiffany offered him a smile that illuminated her face with dimpled beauty. For a moment, Jane couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

  “Tiff.” Theo nodded at the woman. “Scheming to take over the world, are we?”

  “Just scheming to give your mom a break.” Lucas took a seat on the floor next to Evelyn, putting Theo in a symbolic place of power over him.

  Jane wondered if it had been a calculated move.

  The smug look Theo gave Lucas made her think it was more the natural undercurrent of the group.

  “If you can make that happen, you will have earned your keep for once.” Theo tilted his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. “When do we get to leave this godforsaken city?”

  “I guess that’s for the police to say.” Evelyn used motherly tones with her stepnephew, despite the racking cough that split her sentence in half.

  “Are you here to spread the plague or be healed?” Theo asked.

  “Neither. I want to help your mom, just like everyone else. When do you think she’s coming home?”

  “Late.”

  Evelyn blew her nose. “Then I’m going back to my hotel to sit in the jetted bathtub and steam away my misery. You all can call me when Christiana has submitted to good sense.” She rose with effort and trudged out of the room.

  “One down.” Theo didn’t open his eyes.

  “I go too, Teo.” Nguyen stood. “You call when need, yes?”

  “Of course, brother. Can you make sure Evelyn makes it home safe?” Lucas patted his friend on the leg as he passed.

  “Yes, yes.”

  The task force members were maybe at the same hotel, but not in a rental like Josiah and his family. Did they each have their own car, or would Nguyen travel with Evelyn? Jane craned her neck to see if she could catch a glimpse of them leaving.

  “That makes two.”

  “Is there anything we can do for you or Nick?” Tiffany asked.

  “I think, at a time of grieving like this, privacy is all our little family asks.” Theo didn’t move a muscle, and his voice was likewise emotionless.

  “Tiff and I are going to slip into the office and get some work done, but we won’t come out again until your mom gets home or we give up waiting. How does that sound?” Lucas got up and helped his wife into her wheelchair.

  “Peachy.”

  Lucas rolled Tiffany away.

  Jane perched on the step stool, trying to make her motions as small as possible. She wavered, and realized she had been holding her breath. She still had three bookshelves full of books to dust, so she couldn’t just leave with Theo sitting there. She shoved the Reader’s Digest Condensed Best Books of 1987 back into its spot on the shelf.

  “Sure good to have you around. Without you, we might have all died of decorative-book-dust poisoning.”

  His words were like a slap from nowhere, and Jane burst into laughter.

  Theo opened his eyes. “Funny?”

  “Hilarious, because that’s just what I was thinking.” She stepped off of the stool and folded it up. “Do you know how hard it is to think of reasons to linger in a clean house? The spying-maid gig is harder than I thought it would be.”

  Theo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So whodunit?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Did the A-Team drop any illuminating clues?”

  “Nope.”

  “So what do you do next? Report ‘nothing to see here’ to the police detective?”

  Jane packed her dusters into her cleaning caddy. “As a matter of fact, I kind of have to keep this all on the down low. Turns out cops don’t love amateurs poking their noses into murder investigations.”

  “Despite that, you’re happily taking my mother’s money to clean a perfectly clean house.”

  “Sure.” Jane shrugged. “I don’t charge her any more than I charge my other clients. And no one ever lets the maid clean a dirty house.”

  This time Theo laughed.

  “What about you?” Jane ventured. “Do you really think Francine did it?”

  “Sure. Or maybe a delusional religious fanatic.” Theo’s face reddened. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find out who stuck him, since there were only so many people on the stage with him that day. The question is, who ordered him killed?”

  “Did you believe in your stepdad’s ministry?” Jane’s heart beat so loud she thought the neighbors could hear it, but she needed to take advantage of t
he boy’s unusual chattiness.

  “It worked for them.” Theo’s face froze, though it reddened another shade.

  “But not for you?”

  “People pay good money to get what they want out of life. If Josiah Malachi gave people what they wanted, who am I to complain?”

  “So, is life a lot different with your mom than with your dad?”

  “Not really.”

  Jane tilted her head. How could it not be vastly different with all of the travel and the revivals? “What do you mean?”

  “Dad’s rich too, though maybe not quite as famous. And he’s also never home. Can’t be any closer to the same than that.” Theo leaned back again.

  Jane was losing him, but she wasn’t ready to yet. “How does losing Josiah compare to losing your sister?”

  Theo kept his mouth shut.

  “She was your sister, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, Haven is my sister.” Theo’s voice was clipped. He took a deep breath and held it.

  “What happened to her?”

  “No one ever told me.” His jaw worked side to side.

  “But she was twelve when she disappeared. How could they not talk about it? Not explain what happened? Not try to find her?”

  Theo didn’t speak, but Jane let the pause last, remembering the advice she had learned in school to give your interviewee twelve seconds before you decided they weren’t going to answer.

  “The answer to that is obvious, isn’t it?”

  Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t want to guess wrong and have him clam up.

  “If no one is looking for you, it means they know where you are, and aren’t worried.”

  “So where is she, then?” Jane didn’t mean to whisper it, but her body was reacting like Theo was a wild animal. Small movements, quiet sounds.

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be cooling my heels in Portland, Oregon, would I?” Theo forced himself to his feet. A vein throbbed in his temple, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. He barely had control over himself. “Get out before I call my mom and tell her what you are really doing here.”

  Jane stood her ground, but put her hand to her car keys in her jeans pocket.