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

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “And?” Gemma slurped a spoonful of cereal.

  “He told me to say hi.”

  “Okay.”

  “He hasn’t heard from you.”

  “At a birth. Until 5:00 a.m.” Gemma yawned again.

  “So it wasn’t like you didn’t want to call him, right?”

  “Sure.” Gemma shrugged.

  “Not right?” Jane took a seat next to Gemma.

  “Fifteen texts in one night. While I was working.”

  “That’s a bit much.” Jane winced. Uncomfortably obsessive for having just gone on a date or two; however, that was usually right up Gemma’s alley.

  Gemma put her spoon down. “What do you think of Grant?”

  “He’s cute. And has a good job.”

  “Those are good things.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Gemma sucked in a slow breath between her teeth. “I saw him at the hospital last night. And I think he saw me.”

  “And then he texted you a million times. What am I missing? Did you see him with another woman?”

  Gemma crinkled her nose and shook her head. “I parked around back and had to walk through the main floor to get to the birthing center. He was at the info desk, and I heard him asking what room Christiana Malachi was in.”

  “Did you stop to say hi, or to ask him what he was doing?”

  “He’s not on the Malachi case. He told you that. And he claims to only have been at the revival to protect us. What was he doing visiting Christiana?”

  “Did you read his texts?”

  “The first couple, but then I was working and put my phone aside.”

  “And you haven’t looked at them since?”

  Gemma chewed her bottom lip.

  Jane’s heart sped up. “This is good news! Let’s read them together. He must have been telling you why he was there, right?”

  “What if he’s the murderer?”

  Jane laughed. “He’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I guess I don’t know, but there is no evidence at all that indicates he’d be remotely interested in killing anyone in the Malachi family. Plus, when I was at the police station today, Theo showed up and Grant was there. He was concerned. He called the ambulance.”

  Gemma rested her head on her arm. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  “But not that deceiving. Let’s read his texts.”

  Gemma put her phone on the counter. “Go for it.”

  Jane started at the beginning. A greeting, a “What’s up?” Then a few minutes later, an “RUOK?” followed by a “Meet me for coffee?” If all fifteen texts were just as boring and short as these, Jane would be very disappointed.

  The first nine were. But the tenth text was a gold mine. “Went 2 C Xtiana. She’s OK. Badge got me in. Didn’t see anything. Had to run, cops on case showed up. Need to talk.”

  So…he didn’t have permission to go see her and used his badge to get in. Why? Text eleven didn’t clear it up, though, just another brief plea to connect. Text twelve was meatier. “Xtiana still in danger. And kids. Trying to call Nick, no answer. Do you know Nick?”

  “See?” Gemma said, when Jane was done reading it. “He went to see if Christiana was mortally wounded, and now wants to find her son.”

  “You’re reading the wrong things into this. He wanted to make sure she was okay, and is concerned for her kids.”

  “Just read the rest.”

  Jane continued. Text thirteen was terse. And text fourteen was a bit embarrassing. “Luv u already.”

  “Ew.” Jane laughed. “He loves you already?”

  “See? I told you. He’s a weirdo.”

  “Let’s read the last one.” Jane took a deep breath. “Meeting with detectives to share what I know. Wanted to talk to you first, to hear what you saw. Sorry I couldn’t. Can we get together? I think you are amazing. Brave, beautiful and smart. Sorry if this was too much, or too fast. But we really click, right? And I just needed someone to talk to about what I know. I’m sorry. But call, or text when you can.” Jane scratched her head. “How many times have you guys gotten together since you met?”

  Gemma looked away.

  “Have you been seeing him every day?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you guys been…hooking up?”

  “No! Of course not! Jeesh, Jane. I mean, kissing, sure, but not ‘hooking up.’ You’re not the only Christian in the family.”

  “What about him? Is he saved?”

  “Yes. He’s an old-school Southern Baptist from Texas. He takes God seriously.”

  “You sound convinced.”

  “Of course I am! Do you think I’d see so much of him if I wasn’t?”

  “Then why do you think he’s a murderer?”

  “Oh!” A look of surprise flashed across Gemma’s face. “I just…”

  “When kissing him, you are convinced he’s a good guy, but last night…the night you did not get even a minute of sleep, you doubted?”

  “Yes. Exactly. Let’s chalk it up to no sleep, okay?”

  “That sounds good to me. And can you please call him back? I’m dying to know what he knows!”

  Gemma laughed. “I’ll call him back, but I can’t tell you anything he shares in confidence.”

  “Humph.” Jane crossed her arms. “I probably should have grabbed him while I could.”

  “I’m going back to bed.” Gemma padded out of the kitchen and back to her room, leaving her phone on the counter.

  Jane stared at it. It would be so easy to text him back and pretend to be Gemma. So easy, and so wrong.

  She didn’t have to text him, though. After a long day of school, and begging her prof not to drop her for missing her morning class, Grant called her.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “I’m on the bus.” It was another hot, packed, and stinky bus, too. “We need to talk, but I don’t think I can here.”

  “Then hang up, and I’ll text. This is important.”

  “Okay.” She hung up, and he texted back immediately.

  “Be careful. Don’t trust Francine.”

  She stared at her phone. She was more confident of Francine than she was of this detective. He had better have strong evidence if he was going to warn her off.

  “Y?”

  “I didn’t want to say, but I haven’t been able to talk to Gemma yet. I saw Francine flee the scene.”

  Flee the scene? Jane swallowed hard. Why would Francine have done that? “WHAT?”

  “She ran. Out back door. Hard and far. Didn’t make statement.”

  Jane racked her brain to remember exactly when she had last seen Francine.

  “And then she ran. Don’t. Trust.”

  And then another text immediately followed. “Protect Gemma, please.”

  Ahh. Gemma. He was afraid she would draw danger to his new girlfriend. It was sweet, almost. But so wrong. “Francine is safe.” She didn’t use all caps again, but she wanted to.

  “She’s not. Please. Beware.”

  Jane turned off her phone. So what Grant “knew” was that he thought he saw Francine running from the scene. She changed her mind and turned her phone back on. And she called Francine.

  “Please, meet me somewhere private. I’m on the bus going up Burnside. I will meet you anywhere.”

  “Okay.” Francine sounded defeated. “Meet me at my hotel suite. Do you know where it is?”

  “Of course. I can be there in about half an hour.”

  “Fine.”

  “And…just, take care of yourself, okay, Francine?”

  “What?”

  “I can’t talk now, but maybe get to your suite and stay put.”

  “I’m already here.”

  “Good. Sorry for being cryptic.”

  “You’re surrounded by people. I understand.”

  It took forty-five minutes to get to the hotel, and Jane ran from the bus stop straight to Francine’s room.

  Francine let her
in and locked the door behind them.

  Jane pressed her hand to her side and tried to catch her breath. “I shouldn’t have quit running.”

  Francine lifted an eyebrow. “It looks like. Do you need something? A glass of water?”

  “No, let me just sit down.” She took the edge of the desk chair. “You sit down, too.”

  “You sounded worried on the phone.” Francine sat on the small leather love seat under the window.

  “Detective Bryce just called, or had just called, and said I shouldn’t trust you.”

  Francine ran her fingers through her hair. “Because I ran.”

  “But why did you do that? Why didn’t you stay and make a statement to the police?”

  Francine rubbed her lips together. “I saw someone else running away and wanted to catch them.”

  “But who?” Jane had got her breath back, but her pulse wouldn’t slow down. “Was it Tiffany?”

  “What?” Francine frowned. “No. It wasn’t.”

  “Who, Francine? You need to tell me who was worth running after.”

  “Can you keep this a secret?”

  “Of course not.” Jane stood up and moved to the sink. “This is a murder investigation, and the whole point of hiring me was to keep you from looking guilty.”

  “I understand.” Francine folded her hands on her knee.

  Jane helped herself to a glass of water and sipped it. “You have to tell me who you chased.”

  “Nguyen.”

  “Excuse me?” Jane sat down again. The name had hit her like a punch. The one person she hadn’t suspected, not even once.

  “Nguyen was running, and fast. I had to catch him so he wouldn’t do something stupid. I just feel terrible about that man.”

  “I need more information.” Jane’s leg was shaking, so she pressed her palms against it to calm down.

  “Nguyen is terrified of police. Josiah, well, you know how Josiah threatened me to keep me around. He did the same thing to all of us, probably. I know he threatened Nguyen. Nguyen was legal. Perfectly legal. He had refugee status and could not be deported. But that’s not what Josiah told him.”

  “Oh!” Tears sprang to Jane’s eyes. Nguyen, with his slight frame and communication struggles, seemed so vulnerable.

  “Exactly. Josiah knew Nguyen had nothing. No money for a lawyer, no family in this country. When Nguyen said he was going to quit, Josiah told him that he couldn’t because his green card depended on the job with the ministry. Josiah told him if he left, he would be deported. He taught him to fear the police at all costs.”

  The tears streamed down Jane’s face now. Josiah hadn’t done one pure, unselfish, Christlike thing in all of his ministry, and so many people had been, and were still, fooled. It was almost better that he was dead.

  She wiped her eyes. It was not better, because now he couldn’t repent.

  “Did you catch him?”

  Francine shook her head. “No, not that night. But we both went to the police the next day and explained the situation.”

  “And word just hadn’t gotten to Detective Bryce yet.”

  “Why did you ask if I had chased Tiffany?”

  “Have you ever noticed how…strong she seems to be?”

  “I know that polio has a really big range of effects. I know she uses the chair more than she really needs to, but that’s Lucas. He really babies her.” Francine’s tone was wistful.

  “I think Lucas and Tiffany killed Josiah.” Jane blurted it out. “I don’t think Tiffany ever had polio. I saw her run the other day. Lucas wasn’t in the sound booth when Josiah was killed, because he stabbed his boss. Tiffany was party to the kidnapping; that’s how they overpowered Theo and Robert, by surprising them. And while Lucas was on stage preaching—that’s been his goal, because he’s after the money and power of the job—the girl with the wheelchair slipped out, abandoned her chair, and stabbed Christiana. But she panicked because time was short, and she failed.”

  This time tears slid down Francine’s face. “Over the years I have really come to love Tiffany. Like a true sister.”

  Jane held her breath.

  “But…”

  “I could be right?”

  “You could be right.”

  “Theo is at the hospital. He stumbled into the police station while I was there today.”

  Francine’s eyes flew open. “What? Is he okay?”

  “Let’s go find out.” Jane grabbed her purse from the floor. “But you’ll have to drive. We’ll never get there while it’s still daylight if we take the bus.”

  Francine got them to the hospital as though there were no such thing as a traffic cop. They got his room number from information and headed straight for it.

  Jane’s phone burst into song while they were in the elevator, headed towards Theo. It was Jake’s ringtone. She gripped her phone, but couldn’t decide if she should answer it. They had exchanged a few short, sweet texts in the last couple of days, but he was not caught up on the case at all, and she didn’t think she had time to explain it all now. She hit the power button instead and turned the phone off. Jake would have to wait, God bless him.

  A cop sat at the door to Theo’s room, punching the screen to his phone, a bored look on his face.

  “Can we go see him?” Jane asked.

  The cop gave her an apologetic half smile. “He’s asleep. I’ve been cooling my heels here for most of the day. I get to take a statement, if he’s ever up to giving it.”

  “They’re making you sit outside his door?”

  “Yeah, he gave us the impression there was a reasonable risk to his safety, right before he passed out and didn’t wake up again.”

  “So he’s not saying anything, then.” Francine swayed.

  Jane reached a steadying hand out to her. “We think we know who did this to him, and to his parents. Is there someone we could talk to?” Her heart fluttered in her chest. The cop seemed disinterested in Theo, but now was her chance to lay out her theory, and she had to take it while there was still time.

  “Oh, yeah? Been playing cops and robbers?” He chuckled. “Go ahead. I’ve got time to kill.”

  Jane laid out her theory that Lucas wanted power and money and that he slipped away from his post at the sound booth during the first event to stab Josiah. Then he and Tiffany worked together to take Theo by surprise. Her theory that the young wife in the wheelchair took advantage of the chaos her husband had produced so that she could stab her boss brought another chuckle out of the cop, but Jane was relieved to get it off of her chest.

  Plus, she was sure when Theo woke up he’d corroborate her tale by pinning his kidnapping on them. She didn’t know how they had done it, but she was sure they had.

  Whether the cop believed her right now or not, he’d have to believe Theo.

  Francine nudged Jane. “Let’s let Theo rest. I feel like catching up with Nick. Just to see how he’s doing, yes?” She looked scared, and fidgeted with her purse strap.

  Jane gave a parting glance to Theo’s room. She wanted to be there when he woke up and proved her right, but Lucas and Tiffany were loose, and on a roll. It was time to go make sure Nick was still safe.

  They paused in the parking lot. Francine called Nick and put him on speakerphone.

  “Nick—this is Francine. Are you all right?”

  “Yes…why?”

  “Your brother is here, at the hospital, and he’s safe, but we’re just worried about you. Between your brother, your mom, and Josiah...”

  “Relax. I’m fine.”

  “Well, where are you? I think Jane and I want to connect, in person, just to see for ourselves that all is well.”

  “I’m with Wendy.”

  “But are you safe? Can you maybe stay in one place, one public place? We’re very concerned for you right now.”

  “We’re at her apartment; is that good enough?”

  Francine worked her jaw back and forth. “Honestly? I don’t know. But if you see Lucas or Tiffany come to t
he door, whatever you do, don’t open it.”

  “Hold on—what is it, Wendy?”

  In the background they heard muffled voices.

  “Wait, who’s here? Hey, Francine, um, Wendy just let them in. I’m going to try and, um, distract them? Yes?”

  “No! That’s not good enough! Hang up and call the cops! Or, better yet, stay on the line and call the cops with the other phone.” Francine’s eyes were bulging, and her voice had gone hysterical. “Whatever you do, try and overpower them.”

  Nick didn’t respond, but there wasn’t a dial tone yet, so Francine passed Jane the phone and they both got in the car. “Where does this Wendy girl live?”

  “Across the street from me. I can get you there fast.”

  They hopped on the highway and raced to Jane’s neighborhood.

  “What car do you think they are driving?”

  “They’ve been driving a turquoise Subaru, but I doubt that’s what they used to kidnap Theo and Robert.” Francine’s voice broke on Robert. They still hadn’t had word about him.

  Jane spotted a Subaru that matched the one she had seen them get in at Christiana’s house. “Park there!”

  Francine pulled her car up so it blocked the ride.

  They ran to the apartment and barged in.

  Nick and Lucas sat across the small dining room table from each other, talking in earnest. Tiffany looked up from her coffee cup and smiled at Francine and Jane.

  “Hey.” She sat in her wheelchair next to the couch where Wendy sat with a coffee cup in a shaking hand.

  Jane gripped her side, panting. Again, taking up running had been a good idea. Too bad she had quit. The three flights of stairs to Wendy’s apartment were killer.

  “We need to talk.” Francine stepped into the center of the room and stared at Lucas with laser intensity. “Tell me where you were the day that Theo disappeared.”

  Lucas paled. “I was…”

  “He was resting,” Tiffany jumped in. “This has been a terrible experience, and he needed to rest. I left him in our room and went to the hotel computer bank to catch up with emails.” Her voice quavered like Francine intimidated her.

  Jane tilted her head and considered Tiffany. Why was she not giving her husband an alibi? Could she be more innocent than Jane had imagined? “How long were you in the computer lab?”