Dirty Little Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 2)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Would Joe have had a dip in the spa with his brother-in-law?

  What about Amy? She seemed comfortable at her dad’s house. Had she hopped in the tub with her dad for some fatherly chit-chat and then killed him? Why would she have? For selling the horses?

  The people with motive didn’t seem to have access to Douglas. The people with access didn’t seem to want him dead.

  Jane considered Alexandra again.

  Had she come by to see her ex-husband? Perhaps they had rekindled their youthful love at some point? Maybe Alexandra had even pursued Douglas with the idea of killing him already in mind?

  Jane drummed her fingers on her desk.

  The most tantalizing clues were the towels and the phone. Had the lover snuck home early from her vacation? Had she killed Douglas and then made off with the clues that she had been there?

  Jane had established, to her own liking, that Caramel couldn’t have had a dip in the tub, then hidden in the closet, gotten rid of the evidence, and come back up the driveway dry and dressed. There just wasn’t enough time between discovering the body and seeing Caramel for her to be the killer. But what about an ex-wife set on vengeance?

  Alexandra could have done it. She was petite, so hiding in the closet and ducking around bushes and things as she ran away would have been easy.

  Jane just needed proof. But first, she had to go clean another house. Groceries wouldn’t buy themselves.

  Her phone rang a few times while she drove home from cleaning her client’s house, so she pulled over to see what was going on. The first message was a garbled mess from Gemma, but the gist was that Stephanie had found something weird.

  While playing the second message her phone rang again.

  “Gemma?”

  “Jane—listen! You know how Caramel’s ring has been missing?”

  “Yes?” Jane squeezed the steering wheel.

  “We think we found the matching bracelet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It gets weird. Hold on to your hat. Stephanie was cleaning up a bit, and she found this bracelet… She was using your cleaning stuff—the bucket of stuff that’s at the apartment.”

  Her work supplies. Wonderful. “What about the bracelet?”

  “It’s really fancy, thick gold with lots of diamonds. It’s not mine, and it’s not Stephanie’s and I’m pretty sure it’s not yours.” Gemma poured the words out breathlessly.

  “But why would Caramel’s stuff be in my supplies? I have my cleaning caddy that I take from house to house with me. That one’s just the refills.” Jane had a sick feeling in her stomach She was sure the bracelet was Caramel’s, as Gemma suggested, but the only way it could have made it into her things was too horrible to consider.

  “I don’t want you to freak out, but here’s the rest of the story.” Gemma paused for a breath. “Stephanie stripped the bed to do the laundry, and she found a letter in your pillow. I said it had to be from Isaac, but she said it couldn’t be because it was signed ‘D,’ and I said Isaac’s last name was Daniels, but she swears it could only be from Douglas, so… Now, don’t freak out, but Stephanie’s a little scared because you have this fancy bracelet, and she thinks you have a love letter from the dead guy.”

  “That’s not my letter.” Jane’s jaw was tight. She was being set up.

  “But it has to be; it was in your pillow.”

  “I saw it after Steph moved in and I thought it was hers. She was sleeping with it in the pillow, not me.”

  “I think that’s why she was freaking, because she was sleeping on someone else’s love letter. Not because you were doing anything wrong.”

  “It’s not my letter.”

  “Okay, it’s not. But the bracelet in your stuff… what do we do about that?”

  Jane’s head was pounding. She didn’t want to think that Gemma’s friend had set her up, but if not, then someone else had broken into their place and left behind stuff to frame her. An enemy she didn’t know was even more horrifying than one sleeping in her bed. Jane took a deep breath before she spoke. “Gemma… how well do you know Stephanie?”

  “What do you mean?” Gemma’s voice was still high and excited.

  “I mean, could she be a klepto? Could she have grabbed that bracelet somewhere and now just be blaming our unusual circumstances for it?” Jane crossed her fingers, hoping this simple answer would fix everything.

  “Absolutely not, Jane. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  If Stephanie wasn’t an innocent kleptomaniac, then something much worse had just happened. Jane steeled herself for a confrontation. “Where are you? Can you meet me at the police station on Burnside?”

  “We’re just having lunch—we’re not far from there.”

  “Then get here fast—both of you—and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

  Gemma and Stephanie were so fast that they pulled in right behind Jane.

  They went inside together, Jane leading the way to the front desk. “Excuse me?” Jane’s voice cracked like a child’s. She gritted her teeth and tried to steady her voice. “We had a weird incident at our apartment that we think might be related to the death of Douglas Swanson.

  The receptionist narrowed her eyes at the girls. “Really? Can you elaborate?”

  Stephanie pushed her way forward. “This!” She shoved the bracelet, wrapped in a handkerchief, through the slot in the bullet proof glass.

  The receptionist lifted a corner of the handkerchief with her pencil point. “What is it?”

  “I found that at our apartment, but it doesn’t belong to any of us.” Stephanie dropped her voice. “Jane is the Swanson’s maid.”

  The receptionist pursed her lips. “Hmm. Why don’t you all take a seat. I’ll get right back with you.”

  They shuffled back to the waiting area. Jane kept her eye trained on the receptionist who made three phone calls in a row.

  “What do you think they are going to do with us?” Stephanie sat on the edge of her seat, her legs shaking.

  “Hopefully, they will get hold of Detective Bryce and interview us.” Jane picked at a scratch on her phone case, but kept an eye on Stephanie.

  “I think you need to let Jane do the talking, Steph.” Gemma spoke low in the reassuring tone Jane had heard her use with her birth doula clients when they called in a panic.

  “But Jane wasn’t the one who found the stuff!” The color drained from Stephanie’s face.

  “Sit back and take a deep breath. Let me get you a glass of water. You are about to have a panic attack.”

  “We don’t need that.” Jane smiled at Stephanie and patted her leg. “I appreciate your help. I am sure we will all get a chance to say what we know.”

  Gemma was getting water when the receptionist called Jane and the girls back to the offices.

  “Detective Bryce is in right now, and would very much like to hear what you have to say.”

  The young detective with the cute dimples was sitting at his desk, looking over a file folder when the receptionist opened the doors. He stood up and held out his hand to Jane. “Good to see you, Jane. What’s up?”

  Jane blushed, all attempts at feeling mature and in-control fleeing. Then she steeled herself for the job at hand. She wanted to lay the whole story in front of him before Stephanie had a chance to talk about the letter or jewelry.

  “Why don’t you all sit down and just start at the beginning.” He indicated the chairs in front of his desk where the bracelet was lying. “So, Jane, why do you think this was related to the death of your boss?” The question, and the smile, were friendly, but there was a hard look in the detective’s eye that made Jane shiver.

  “Okay, so I’ve still been cleaning the house, and I’ve had my eye out for the missing towels and hamper.”

  Detective Bryce lifted an eyebrow. He smiled with just one side of his mouth, dimpling on that one side.

  “I didn’t find them.”

  “No? That’s too bad.”

  “But I did find a f
unny phone in the guest bedroom.”

  “Go on.”

  “So, thinking I might have stumbled on something important, I turned it on and looked through it.”

  “Of course you did.” Detective Bryce chuckled.

  “It only had one phone number stored on it. It had pictures of Douglas in bed, and it had text messaged to ‘Darcy’ talking about meeting at ‘Pemberly.’”

  “Continue.” Detective Bryce’s face was mildly amused.

  “That’s all. It seemed like code to me. I assume it was his lover’s phone.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “I left it on the dresser.”

  “To see if it would cause a stir?” His mildly amused smile turned into a mildly irritated frown.

  “Well, yes. I guess so.”

  “Tell me about this.” He lifted the bracelet with the end of his pencil.

  “I found that! I found it in Jane’s cleaning stuff!” Stephanie’s blanched face was animated, her eyes bulging and jaw shaking. She sort of bounced on the edge of her seat like she was very anxious. “And I found this, too, in her bed.” She pulled the crumpled paper out of her pocket and tossed it on the desk.

  Detective Bryce looked at Jane with a lifted eyebrow.

  “That’s why we are here. It looks like someone has been planting evidence on me.” Jane glanced at the gray wall covered in certificates and the metal filing cases that filled the room. Her body went cold, and her head felt light. “Frankly, I’m scared.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stephanie, goggle eyed, shaking her head no.

  Detective Bryce knit his eyebrows together. He looked directly at Stephanie. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  Stephanie stopped, her mouth opened in a little o. “Nothing. Just. I mean, the letter, in her pillow. Signed “D” like Darcy or Douglas. I mean…” She glanced at Gemma, who stared at her, red faced.

  “I’m glad you brought this here.” He pulled the letter toward himself with a pencil. “I can have it dusted for fingerprints.

  Jane shook her head. “I’ve read that letter. I found it in the pillow, so my fingerprints are on it.”

  “Then we will expect to see yours and… What’s your name?”

  “Stephanie Frances.”

  “We’ll expect to see prints from both Stephanie and Jane. But we’ll see what else we can find. On the bracelet as well. If I am correct, this bracelet was reported stolen not long ago.”

  Stephanie slumped back in her chair.

  “Is there anything else?” He looked at each girl, one by one.

  Gemma shook her head, and Stephanie chewed her bottom lip.

  “That’s it, sir. I just thought you should know.” Jane sat on the edge of her seat with her hands pressing down hard on her knees.

  Detective Bryce dimpled a little. “I don’t like that these showed up in your apartment. I would like to send some officers over to take a look around.”

  “Oh!” Stephanie sat up.

  “That would be so great,” Gemma said. “I was a little bit thinking about staying at my parents’ for a few nights.”

  “I’ll have someone come by and check it out, and you guys need to have the landlord change your locks. And Jane, I strongly encourage you to stay away from the Swanson house.”

  “What if I only go when Amy is there?”

  “Amy the daughter?”

  “Yeah. She’s very nice. If I keep popping in to clean like normal, but I always make sure she is there… that can’t be bad, can it?”

  Detective Bryce looked at the bracelet. “No. Don’t do it.”

  Gemma leaned forward. “Where was the bracelet stolen from?”

  “Joseph Dillon Jewelers.”

  “Caramel’s brother Joe?” Jane leaned forward to look at it more closely. “Does this match the ring that Caramel lost?”

  “I should say that that’s privileged information.” Detective Bryce chuckled again. “But it’s not. It’s even been in the news. Someone claiming to be Caramel’s maid picked up a bracelet matching this description from the jewelry store where the missing ring was purchased. When Caramel came by to get it, they realized their mistake. But yes, both Caramel and the jeweler say they were part of the same design line.”

  “They said it was the maid?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry. You don’t match the description at all.”

  “But the ring Caramel thought I stole was shoved down Douglas’s throat.” Jane shuddered. “So someone really did plant this on me to make me look like the murderer.”

  “You’re not a suspect, Jane.”

  Jane tried to acknowledge him, but tears sprung to her eyes.

  “Thanks for bringing all of this in.” He rubbed his hands together. “We’re getting very close to solving this one, I think. But please, by all means, keep your phone on all the time—all three of you—and the next time anything like this happens, call 911 immediately.”

  Stephanie gasped.

  “I don’t mean to scare you, but until we’ve got the killer behind bars, I don’t want you taking any risks.” He stood up and walked to the door.

  Their interview was over.

  “From the looks of this, I’m thinking the person we are looking for is looking for a little attention right now.” He cleared his throat. “That’s a good thing for me, but it makes me nervous for you.”

  Jane patted her pocket. “I’ll have my phone with me and turned on at all times.”

  “Good girl.”

  22

  “Should we drop by the jewelry store?” Jane asked before they all shut their car doors.

  Stephanie’s eyes went wide.

  “I don’t think so, Jane. You’ve never been there. You wouldn’t want to show up now and get your DNA on stuff,” Gemma said.

  Jane fingered her stitches again. “No. I had better not.”

  Gemma started her car. “Whatever you do, be careful! We’ll be home about five, and we’ll stick around. Let’s try to not leave each other alone, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” Jane sat in her car for a moment longer. Go back to the Swanson’s house now or…? She didn’t have a second option in mind, so she drove back to the Swanson’s house.

  She had almost reached the house when her phone rang. It was Kaitlyn.

  “We need you at Bean Me Up Scotty’s in ten minutes. This is the make-it or break-it meeting. Did you forget?”

  Jane stared at her phone. “Forget? Was I ever told in the first place?”

  “I texted. Valerie texted. Paula emailed. Something big is up with the funding. Paula called the meeting. I suggested Bean Me Up Scotty’s—for Valerie’s sake—good move, right?”

  Jane squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them. “Good move?” Jane pictured the coffee shop and came up with the barista with the glasses. “Yes, of course. Good move. But… I missed it all. Emails, texts. I saw nothing.”

  “I’m sure we sent them to you… Why wouldn’t we have?” Kaitlyn’s voice was leaning toward a whine. “Paula started it. She has big news about the mission mentoring and funding program, but she wouldn’t let us know what it is.”

  Jane took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. From where she had pulled over, she could see the Swanson house. Caramel’s Mini Cooper was pulling out of the driveway. “I’ve got ten minutes?”

  “Yes! You can make it, right?”

  Jane chewed on her lip. She inched forward. Follow Caramel, or pin Amy down for a long talk?

  “You can make it, right? Our outreach is massively on the line here. If we want to shine a light for bullied kids, we need to represent.”

  The front door of the Swanson house opened.

  A head peeked out.

  A blonde head.

  Jane inched her car a little closer, but before she could get close enough to identify the woman, the door shut again.

  “I’ll be there!” Jane said. “But I’ve got to go!” She hung up before Kaitlyn could say anything else.

  Had the o
wner of the phone come back for it?

  Jane drove around the block and parked behind the Swanson property.

  The house in back was dark, so Jane ran down the side driveway and didn’t worry about being seen. She hopped their back fence into the wooded area that separated the properties from each other.

  The stranger in the house could be a friend of Caramel’s or Amy’s as easily as not. She pushed her way through the brambles. She needed to find a spot where she could hide and still see into the huge back windows.

  She hiked as close to the Swanson house as she could, but her angle and the angle of the sun were all wrong. The light glinted off the wall of windows, and she could see nothing. She pushed a little closer, hoping to snatch a view through the side windows.

  Someone was moving around in the guest bedroom, but she couldn’t make out much more than the silhouette. She took a few pictures, and then backed further into the woods so that she wouldn’t be seen. She stopped when the masses of trees hid the house from her sight, and emailed herself the pictures she had taken.

  She pushed through the woods and found herself, not in the back by her car but at the neighbor’s pool house. The lights were out, but the door was ajar.

  Jane stuffed her phone in her pocket, and slunk over to the door. From her limited experience in the neighborhood, she was pretty sure the folks who lived on this property were at work all day.

  She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs. She knew the laundry hamper was in the pool house—knew it like she knew the Beatitudes.

  Or that it had been in the pool house.

  The police had searched the Swanson property from top to bottom, and this was the only building near enough to run to in the short time the killer had had.

  The little pool house was dark inside. Jane left the lights off.

  The building was one large room with two doors on the side. The floor was tiled in dark gray stone. The windows were all covered with airy, cheesecloth-like curtains. One wall had a small kitchen, and the center of the room was furnished with wicker that looked worn around the edges. Jane bent down and looked under the wicker couch where she found a pair of flip flops and a tank top. She tried to put them back in the same position she had found them in.