“I think that can happen to anyone.” Paula gave her attention to Valerie. “And I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Sometimes God plants a seed in us because he knows it needs to germinate for a long time before it comes to fruition.”
“Like you and Mark!” Kaitlyn’s already happy face broke into a smile so wide Jane thought she might need sunglasses to look in her direction.
Paula glanced up to a huge photo hanging over her fireplace. “Yup,” she said with a slight blush coming over her. “Just like me and Mark.” After an embarrassed pause she started again. “Turning in your packets was a good sign that your intentions for missions are serious. Let’s face it, dozens of students think they want to go overseas, but not all of them are willing to fill out fifty pages on the off chance their church will help support them.”
“I bet not,” Valerie said.
“We at Columbia River Christian Church get very excited about sending out missionaries. Kaitlyn, you probably already know this, since we support Spencer, but we feel it is our duty, as a sending church, to provide the bulk of your support.”
A thrill raced up Jane’s spine. The bulk of her support? That was unheard of, almost. She had taken a class called Perspectives during her days at Bible School and had heard that a few churches around the country had adopted the philosophy, but she hadn’t known Columbia River was one of them.
“We don’t make that public knowledge. For one thing, we get dozens of requests for support every month as it is. We prefer to get to know the missionary hopefuls in our congregation, invest in training them up and then support them in such a way that they don’t have to spend their whole furlough drumming up more money.”
“Furlough is much better spent resting and getting married,” Kaitlyn said with a giggle.
“I don’t know how much rest a wedding is,” Paula said. “But yes, we believe that your furlough should be spent being ministered to, not fundraising. That said, obviously we can’t fund everyone who applies.”
Jane’s mouth went dry.
“So far, you three are the ones we are most interested in, but to be honest, with the economy the way it is, we only have enough support available for one new missionary.”
Jane closed her eyes. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away.
“So our time together over the next year is really important. It will help us determine who we will be funding. We wish we could fund all three of you, really we do. But we can’t.”
“We totally understand.” Kaitlyn nodded her head, a bit overenthusiastically, in Jane’s opinion. Of course Kaitlyn understood. They’d almost have to pick her, since they already funded her future husband for the same mission.
“The one thing most field missionaries wish their new recruits had is solid experience in leading small groups. It’s such a simple thing to do, but sometimes sending churches forget to let their future missionaries lead in the church.”
“Oh, I know what you mean.” Kaitlyn flipped her blond hair over her shoulder with her prosthetic hand. “They almost sent Spencer home after his first month. They thought he was useless.”
Paula smiled.
Jane squirmed. It was wrong to dislike someone with a missing hand, but the way Kaitlyn said “Spencer” and was so completely sure of what she was going to do with her life irritated Jane. She popped a quick prayer up, for forgiveness and grace, and tried to remember that her work-stress was the problem, not Kaitlyn. It kind of helped.
“The other thing new recruits need is strong teamwork skills, so I’d like to ask the three of you to start up a new small group together.”
Jane looked at her new teammates out of the corner of her eye. If she had to guess, Valerie would plan everything, Kaitlyn would get all of the attention for it, and Jane would do all of the work.
Jane passed her hand over her forehead. Her heart was not in the right place, not even remotely. If her future were to be based on today’s attitude, she wouldn’t send herself to the foreign mission field, either.
“Why don’t we all grab some coffee and dessert, and you ladies can get to know each other and talk a little about the kind of small group you’d like to lead.
Desserts were spread across the breakfast bar in the kitchen behind Paula. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapped Jane in a comforting embrace.
“Come on in and help yourself.”
Valerie got up first, with a little grunt. “I won’t be shy. I have to admit those desserts have been tormenting me since I got here.”
Paula laughed. “No need to be shy here. We’re family.”
From the relaxed smile on Paula’s face, Jane knew she meant it. She saw the three potential missionaries as family.
Jane stepped into the hall to compose herself. When she felt half-way normal again, she joined the others in the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee, hoping it was decaf.
“So, Jane, I hear Isaac Daniels brought you to Columbia River, is that right?” Paula asked.
“Yes…” Jane took a sip of her coffee.
“How does he feel about missions?” Paula passed a strawberry topped cupcake to Jane.
Jane’s hand shook as she picked up the cupcake. That was the million dollar question.
Jane kept her eyes glued to her bright red berry set into the creamy pink frosting.
“Whoops! Excuse me.” Paula patted her pocket. “My phone.” She pulled out her cell phone and padded into the hall.
Jane’s second narrow escape of the day. She peeled the sliced strawberry from the frosted cupcake and bit it. She wasn’t sure which was scarier: finding out how Isaac truly felt about missions, or facing Caramel and the missing diamond in the morning.
Jane took her cupcake to the dining room table where Valerie and Kaitlyn were chatting.
Kaitlyn turned her one hundred watt smile to Jane. “So what kind of small groups do you like?”
“Bible studies are good.” Jane licked a dab of frosting from her thumb.
“We’re all single ladies—for now anyway,” Valerie said. “Maybe we could offer a Bible study for single career women.”
“Sure…” Kaitlyn said, her voice trailing off in an unconvinced tone. “That’s a possibility. But what about single moms, instead? That’s a really needy group.”
“We could do that.” Valerie sucked in her cheeks. “We’d have to get babysitters lined up, but it is a needy group.”
Jane set her cup down. Nothing wrong with single women—or single moms—as far as an outreach was concerned, but they were going about this backwards. “Do we have a list of small groups that Columbia River already offers?”
“Oh, I am pretty sure I know all of them already,” Kaitlyn said.
“Okay.” Jane nodded, but found the claim difficult to believe. “Why don’t we make a list of what we know is going on and see if we could identify an unmet need.”
Kaitlyn pulled her tablet from her purse. She stroked it and poked it. “All right, here’s the list from the website.”
Before Kaitlyn could start reading it, Paula came back into the room. Her face was paper white. She gripped the back of Valerie’s chair, her arms shaking.
“Ladies, I…” She choked on the word. “I need to ask you to leave. There’s been an accident.” Fat tears welled up from Paula’s eyes, and rolled down her cheeks.
Kaitlyn jumped up, and put an arm around Paula’s back. She pulled out a chair. “You need to sit.”
Paula collapsed into the seat.
“What happened? How we can help?” Kaitlyn knelt down beside Paula so they were at about eye level.
“It’s Marcus.” Paula covered her face with both hands. “They found him… He was on his way home.” She shook her head.
Jane reached across the table for Paula’s hand. “What happened?”
“They said it was a hit and run.” She took a deep, ragged breath.
“Paula, what do you need us to do for you?” Kaitlyn asked, her young voice business-like.
“H
e’s at the hospital. Providence.”
For a moment, Jane’s heart lightened. Marcus would be okay.
“They need me to come identify his body.” Paula crumpled forward, laying her head on the table, her shoulders shaking as she wept.
Kaitlyn stayed next to her, the prosthetic hand resting on Paula’s shoulder, while she stroked the pastor’s hair with her good hand. “When you are ready to go, we can take you there.”
Jane and Valerie nodded in mute agreement.
A small voice at the back of Jane’s head whispered, at least it wasn’t murder.
3
Kaitlyn drove Paula to the hospital, and Valerie followed with the Ehlers’ car. Jane had stood on the periphery, watching their careful handling of the mission coordinator, whom they had known for years and loved. Jane wanted to step in and help, too, but Kaitlyn had already thought of everything.
Jane had hugged the grieving woman and both of her new teammates. She would pray for Paula, but until some new task needed doing, she would attempt to get a handle on the issue of the missing diamond ring.
First thing she did when she got back to her own, small, crowded apartment, was call Holly.
“Listen,” she said, after exchanging greetings, “I desperately need you tomorrow at the Swanson house.”
“I’m free. What’s up?” Holly said.
Jane explained the trouble with the ring.
“She really thinks you found it in the drain and stole it?”
“I can’t know what she really thinks, but that is basically what she said. If I had enough money, I’d hire a plumber to come out, and I’d stand back and let him do the work.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Like I said, I don’t have the money.”
“You can bill her, can’t you? It’s not like you all agreed up front what tomorrow would cost.”
Jane toyed with the idea before answering. It struck her as less than aboveboard. “There could be trouble if she decided not to pay, that’s all. The last thing I need is for a plumber to take me to court for an unpaid bill.” Jane scratched “call Holly” off her to do list.
“Oh well. You can count on me. Seven in the morning?”
“Yup, bright and early.” Jane looked out the window. The sun hovered on the horizon, the long, slow summer sunset clinging to the edge of the Earth.
“Bet you wish Isaac was home.”
“You bet I do.” Calling Isaac was next on her list. Every time she pictured him in his jungle seminary her heart skipped a beat.
“Then I’ll say goodbye so you can get hold of him. You know he’ll have some great way to get you out of this unscathed.”
“Bye, Holly, and thanks.” Jane hung up. Holly had been a good find. She had come on the recommendation of Isaac’s mom as well, but unlike Caramel Swanson, Jane was glad to have connected with Holly.
Jane started with a text, because phone reception was so patchy at Isaac’s school. But before she knew it, she had added the tale of Marcus Ehlers’ death to the message. Not only would the message be a pain to read, and ridiculously expensive, it was a terrible way to find out someone had died. Jane erased it, and dialed Isaac’s number to call him.
The phone rang, and rang, but no one answered.
She turned it off.
The lesson, if she was forced to find one, was that in times of crisis like this, she was supposed to turn to God, and not her boyfriend. She curled up on her couch with a glass of ice water. You couldn’t pray too much over a crisis, even if you were out of new things to say.
The next morning was bright and warm. A great day to spend on the lake, relaxing. Instead, Jane met Holly at the Swanson house. Holly wore her “Plain Jane’s Good Clean Houses” T-shirt, and a determined grimace.
“Don’t worry, Holly. Her bark has to be worse than her bite.” After her long evening of prayer and meditation, the situation with the missing wedding ring had been put in its proper perspective. Caramel was being unreasonable and unrealistic. Showing up this morning to help look for the ring would prove her innocence. After giving the hunt the old college try, everyone could move on. Jane fully expected to be fired as replacement housekeeper, and that was fine, too.
Holly tried to smile.
“I mean it. This is no big deal.” Jane rang the doorbell and waited.
Before the door was answered, a white panel wagon with “Trusty Plumbers” painted on the side drove up.
“This is great news!” Jane gave Holly a big grin. “Now all we will have to do is go fishing in drain gunk. The professionals can take them apart and put them back together.”
The plumber joined them on the front step with his toolbox. He wore faded but clean overalls and looked about Jane’s dad’s age.
“You the little lady who lost the ring?” he asked.
“I am the housekeeper, Jane.” Jane pinned her smile in place, but wondered what story Caramel had told the plumbers.
An older, white-haired man in crisp slacks and a golf shirt answered the door. “Come in, come in.” He waved them into the house. “Caramel isn’t down yet.”
Douglas wasn’t expected back yet, according to Caramel, so who was this guy?
The plumber set his toolbox down on the marble floor. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Caramel said to start in the mud room. Follow me.” The man padded down the hall in his sock feet. He opened the door to a bright, airy mud room with a large, deep, utility sink in the corner. “Go ahead and rip into that one first. I’d like to talk to the ladies.” He winked at Jane.
It had to be Mr. Swanson.
He led Jane and Holly into the kitchen.
“Mr. Swanson, I just want to let you know that I didn’t see the ring yesterday. I tore the sink completely apart, and it just wasn’t there.”
“Call me Douglas.” Douglas leaned against the wall, propped up on his elbow. His feet were crossed at the ankle. He looked Holly up and down like a new car, then turned his gaze to Jane. “Your friend there is sure a young one.”
Jane frowned. “Holly is my employee, and she is young, just seventeen.” She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. She was beginning to understand the reason behind Caramel’s distrust of her husband.
Douglas sized up Jane, his eyes lingering just above her crossed arms. “How long have you been in business, darlin’?”
Jane caught Holly’s eye. Holly was wide eyed and looked confused.
“I’ve been running Good Clean Houses for three years now.”
“You’ll never make me believe you are old enough for that!” Douglas let out a deep chuckle. “Have you had any coffee yet? Can I get you some? Maybe with a dash of Hawaii in it?” He gestured to a selection of bottles on the counter near a short refrigerator. Jane saw “Kahlua” on one of the labels.
“No thank you, Mr. Swanson.” Jane held her ground. With her whole heart, which was beating like a dub-step flash mob, she wished she could run to the mudroom with the plumber, but she could tell her reputation was at stake. One wrong move and she could be held responsible for the missing half-million-dollar ring. “What would Caramel like us to do today?”
“Caramel is… embarrassed.” The corners of his mouth hinted at a smirk. “Today she says she dropped ‘something’ but can’t be sure that it was her ring. Here, sit down, girls.” He waved to the bar stools at the kitchen island.
“She found the ring?” Jane didn’t move.
“Not yet. She’s not the brightest bulb in the box, to be frank. She called the plumber to find whatever it is she lost.”
“Then can we go?” Holly had inched her way to the kitchen door.
“Yes, of course. Why don’t you run along?” Douglas nodded in Holly’s direction without looking at her.
“Wait a sec.” Jane held Holly’s gaze until Holly nodded.
Douglas moved closer to Jane. “We don’t need your friend, Jane.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Let her go so we can get to know each other a little bett
er.”
Jane shook her head, speechless. She’d rather be accused of stealing a priceless diamond than spend one minute alone with this man. “I have another meeting to get to by eight. If you no longer need us, we’ll be leaving.”
“Are you sure about that?” Douglas’s voice was a low purr.
Holly was shaking in the doorway, and Jane was about to holler for help, the tension in the room was so thick, when the silence was broken by the sharp clacks of high heels on marble.
“I see you’ve met the help.” Caramel entered the room in a swish and swirl of satiny fabric, some kind of thin night gown wrapped around her. She planted a red kiss on Douglas’s cheek, and squeezed past Jane.
Caramel held up her hand, a huge diamond sparkling in the bright kitchen lights. “Well, you had a close call, didn’t you?” Caramel looked from her ring to Jane, and then over to Douglas. “Two close calls, I’d say.” Caramel poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’d rather you not come again when my husband is home.” She sipped her hot drink.
Holly nodded so hard her glasses slipped to the end of her nose.
“Did you find your ring, sugar?” Douglas sidled up to his wife. He pulled down the bottle of Kahlua and opened it up.
“I bought a new one, baby.” Caramel smiled like the Cheshire cat.
Douglas set the bottle on the counter, his body bristling. “You what?” His words were ice cold.
“I went to Joe, sweetie. Joe takes care of me.”
Douglas inhaled deeply through his nose. His face grew red, but he pulled a smile into place. “Joe is her brother.”
Jane had the feeling Douglas was reminding himself, rather than telling her and Holly.
Douglas lifted Caramel’s hand and examined the new bauble. “It had better not be real.” He dropped her hand and stalked out of the room.
Caramel picked up the abandoned Kahlua bottle and splashed a little into her mug. “You all can leave now.”
“Of course.” Jane crossed to where Holly stood, very near their exit.
“It is real,” Caramel said, her dark black eyelashes at half-mast, as she stared at the girls.
Dirty Little Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 2) Page 2
