Spoiled Rotten Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 5)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  And KILLER HONEYMOON the sixth Plain Jane Mystery is now available for pre-order!

  One

  “You got me a present?” Jane stared at the black and white business card. It looked like someone had made it on a manual typewriter—at a museum.

  “Sorry it’s so late.” Grant, Jane’s favorite police detective and her cousin Gemma’s boyfriend, grinned. “I was occupied during your graduation.”

  “No big deal.” She hadn’t expected to see Grant at her graduation, anyway. Plus, he had been occupied with a particularly gnarly murder that Jane didn’t get to do any detective work for, because, despite her newly minted Liberal Arts degree with a focus in Criminal Justice, she couldn’t be a real private investigator until she finished a million years’ of supervised internship. Until then, sweep, mop, dust, and hope she stumbled over another body.

  Today she and her fiancé, her cousin Gemma, and Grant were just hanging out in Jane and Gemma’s apartment. It was a little warm, and the evening sun cast long rays through the big window.

  “Isn’t it fabulous?” Gemma squealed.

  Jane looked at it again. The simple text on cheap cardstock read “SCoRI Rocky and Flora Wilson, Private Investigators. Licensed, Bonded, Insured.” It included a phone number, and two license numbers, but no website or email. “It’s the thought that counts?”

  Grant laughed and handed over a legal-sized manila envelope. “That’s my reference letter, a reference letter from Rose-of-Sharon Willis—don’t laugh, it’s good—she might be a crazy old protestor, but you really earned her respect while investigating the death of her friend. The third reference is from your old mentor at Columbia River Community Church, that lady who runs the mission thing. And finally, the application for your provisional private investigator’s license.”

  Jane exhaled. “But…”

  “Rocky and Flora are exceptional investigators and have agreed to take you on so you can get your professional hours in.”

  Jane stared at the card. Her professional hours? Exceptional investigators? Provisional License? “Grant…” She swallowed. This was real. This wasn’t messing around. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t smart enough. Good enough. She couldn’t be a real detective.

  “You’ve got what it takes, Jane.” Grant stretched his arm across the back of the couch and pulled Gemma close to him. “I’ve been paying attention, and not just to Gemma. In my opinion, you ought to just join my team, but if you don’t want to be a cop, you don’t want to. I get it.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Jane sat on the edge of the footstool. All of her dreams come true. No, not all of them. But this one. The one she could do now. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, where’s this big dinner you promised me, Gem?”

  “At a restaurant, of course. Are you two coming?” Gemma looked from Jane to Jake.

  “Nope,” Jake answered. “I have plans for Jane, though I have a feeling she will have her head in the clouds for the rest of the evening.”

  Grant stood up and led Gemma to the door. “Works for me. And don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, Jane. I want to see this happen. You’re good.” He pulled Gemma out the door and shut it behind him.

  “What do you think?”’ Jane asked, holding out the card.

  “I think Grant is a good guy, and I wish I could have done this for you.” Jake took Jane’s hand in his and kissed it.

  “I should call them.”

  “But not right now because it’s seven o’clock on Friday night. Plus, we need to talk.” He tapped the engagement ring on Jane’s finger.

  Jane looked down at the modest diamond on the slim band. She exhaled slowly. She felt like they had just barely gotten engaged. “What’s the hurry?”

  Jake licked his lips. “I’ve got to go back to Thailand.”

  “Yeah, but not tomorrow.”

  “September is practically tomorrow.”

  “We couldn’t possibly plan a wedding in two months.” Jane flipped the card over in her hands.

  Jake pulled a paper out of his jacket pocket. “It’s not a PI license, but…”

  Jane stopped breathing for a moment. “A marriage license.”

  “I want you to have your dream wedding.”

  “I’m not fussy.” Jane looked up from the paper.

  Jake didn’t have his usual laughing face. “I want you to have your dream wedding.” He repeated. “But I don’t want to leave again without being married to you.”

  “You’re being a little dramatic.”

  “There have been a lot of accidents with these Asian airlines. I’m not saying it’s bound to happen. But it’s a wake-up call. I don’t want to die without taking care of you.”

  Jane shook her head. “This is all a lot to think about.”

  “I thought we had more time, too. And I didn’t mind waiting. This September trip came out of nowhere. The donor wants to go to Thailand, and I get to take him. But…if the worst should happen…”

  She squeezed his hand. “It won’t.”

  He frowned.

  “But I’ll think about it. I promise. I’ll give you a final answer tomorrow.” She looked away. “Or by the weekend, at the latest.”

  He leaned in for a kiss, but she wasn’t in the mood. Too many decisions being thrown at her all at once.

  She didn’t let moss grow on her birthday gift, and found herself in the office of Rocky and Flora Wilson the next afternoon.

  The office was tucked into an old building in Oregon City, decorated with a fading mural of Oregon history. The room they met in was on the small side with heavily textured walls painted goldenrod, and acoustic ceiling tiles that looked as dusty as the room smelled. A long commercial fluorescent light fixture hung precariously and flickered an unsteady blue light.

  “We’re not quite as rusty as the building would suggest,” Rocky said with a laugh.

  His voice was pretty rusty, and Jane guessed he and his wife were both well over sixty. Maybe even as old as her grandparents.

  Rocky leaned back in his desk chair, arms behind his head. “We’ve been in private detection since the early 1980s. Long story short, our missionary work came to an abrupt end when the government in charge of the country that is still closed to Christians and still has to remain unnamed, discovered us. We returned home in the dark of night to discover that we loved the cloak and dagger escape we made almost as much as the gospel. We needed to start over anyway, and decided this would do just fine.”

  Jane’s heart danced. Grant must have known they had been missionaries. He was sharp. She twisted her fingers around each other, not sure why she was so nervous.

  “We hear you are working on getting your PI license.” His eyes crinkled while he spoke. “Most kids these days interested in crime want to go the CSI route. It’s nice to see someone interested in snooping.”

  Snooping. She kind of loved that.

  “You’re a quiet one.” Rocky leaned forward. “What are you hiding?”

  Jane sat up straight. “Nothing, sir!” Or was she? Suddenly she couldn’t remember if she was hiding anything or not. Why was she so scared? She had faced murderers before, been in a standoff with a tennis ball pitching machine. She’d even managed to pass her oral exam in Spanish.

  “Oh, leave her alone!” Flora swatted at her husband.

  She looked at least as old as Jane’s grandma, but her white hair was spikey, and she wore a leather jacket over a sweatshirt with a cat picture on it. Her face was lined, but her eyes were keen and she looke
d like she already knew everything.

  “Jane, we’re glad to have you. Don’t know how much Grant has told you about us, but we retired from running our own investigation company a couple of years back. We took over Senior Corps of Retired Investigators because retirement is pretty dull.”

  Jane nodded her head too many times. The cat definitely had her tongue, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t shake it.

  “We can’t pay you much, but we can get your hours in for your own license. And, on that note, we’d better get to work.” Flora dropped a file on the desk. “We do mostly insurance investigations these days. This one is a great one to start with. Our client is Cascadia Surety, who issued a wedding insurance policy for Kyle Fish and Maggie Frances. Frances has filed an insurance claim. Her groom, Fish, disappeared the night of the wedding rehearsal, essentially standing her up at the altar. Standard practice in these cases is to…look into it. We want to know about the relationship between the bride and groom, the extent of the wedding planning, all of the pertinents. Most likely it’s above board and the insurance will pay, but there is always a chance that the couple has been living together for years, planned a fake wedding, and filed a suit to get a cash payout. It’s happened before.”

  Rocky coughed. “Dull.”

  “But a good place to start.” Flora kissed the top of his balding head. “So, Jane, how would you start this investigation?”

  “Um…” She crinkled her nose, a habit she thought she had abandoned around twenty years ago. “Googling?”

  Rocky coughed into a fist. “Never mind that, Flora. Just tell her what to do.” He stood up and shook his pants legs down. “I’ve got an appointment. I’ll see you both at five.”

  Jane felt very much like she had received an F on her first assignment. And she never got Fs.

  “He doesn’t do internet research if he can help it.” Flora rolled her eyes. She sat on the edge of the desk. “Think of Google as your yellow pages, not as a source. I want you to start by finding out if the couple had a marriage license application filed. Go on down to the Multnomah Building and do that in person. You will have some time while you wait in line. While you are waiting, call Maggie Frances, tell her you are working on behalf of the insurance company, which you are, and that you need to set up an appointment to do an interview. If she won’t do it, let her know that her claim relies on the interview. It does. She can’t get the money if she doesn’t talk to us. And…” Flora flipped through the papers. “She’s filing for one hundred thousand dollars. She’ll meet with you.”

  Jane opened her mouth to say yes, but it didn’t come out.

  “You’ll have to find your voice pretty quick, kiddo. A detective needs to listen, but she’s got to ask the questions too.” She shut the folder and handed it over to Jane. “You’ll need this. Do you know how to get there?”

  Jane took a deep breath. “No.”

  Flora laughed. “Then…Google it. I’ve got to run. Rocky and I are in the middle of a big case. And it may have just come to a head. Meet us back here at five, yes?”

  “Of course.”

  Flora left.

  Jane was frozen in her seat.

  Was she supposed to lock up? They hadn’t given her a key.

  She gripped the blue file folder with her very cold hands. Wasn’t she supposed to get hired on as Maggie’s house cleaner and sneak around looking for clues? This didn’t feel a thing like the detective work she was used to.

  While she was trying to figure out what to do about leaving the office unattended, the phone rang. She grabbed it before she could think out what she was supposed to say. “Senior Corps of Retired Investigators, this is Jane.”

  “Jane, huh? Well, fine, ‘Jane’ this is Maggie and if anyone from that office comes to my house even one more time regarding the wedding, I will call the police. Do you understand?” Maggie sounded frantic, scared, and very angry.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I do. Could you elaborate?” Jane tapped her index finger on the desk. This was her bride. The one she was supposed to get friendly with and interview. The one that no one from the office had spoken with yet. Except, apparently, someone had.

  “Elaborate? Sure, I can elaborate for you, Jane. Come to my house again, I call the police. You people make me sick. My fiancé is missing. There is an ongoing police investigation into his disappearance. He may be dead somewhere, and what do you all care about? I can’t even tell anymore, that’s what you care about. Nothing. You care about nothing and you make me sick.” She slowed down, but sounded fierce, like an angry cat protecting her kittens.

  “You are scared for your fiancé.”

  “You think?”

  “And you feel like the insurance company is making your pain worse with their questions.”

  “Oh, it’s the insurance company now, is it? Last time it was the credit card company. Well, I’ll tell you what I said last time. If you step one foot onto our private property, you go straight to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Do you understand that?” Maggie took a loud breath, and hung up.

  Jane stared at the phone.

  If Rocky and Flora were running this show, someone was pretending to be SCoRI on behalf of the credit card company, but who would do that? Jane chewed her bottom lip. Maybe there was a bit of insurance fraud going on, but it sounded like there was something else, maybe even more important as well.

  A soft knock on the door made Jane’s heart leap in her chest.

  The knocker was a tall, thin woman about ten years older than Jane. She pushed her wire rim glasses up her nose. “You must be the Jane that got penciled into my schedule.” She held out her hand. “I’m Miranda. I manage the office here.”

  Jane tried to smile.

  Miranda sat down. “Whoa. What’s wrong?”

  “This phone call I just answered…” Jane lay her hands flat on her lap.

  Miranda frowned. “This is your first day, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe don’t answer the phones for a while yet. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

  Miranda’s lips were a thin line—a small gesture of disapproval. “Sure. But what happened to shake you up?”

  “This case,” Jane held out the folder. “I’m starting it now. It sounded like no one else was working on it, but the lady I’m supposed to interview just called and chewed me out. Said we had to stop coming to the house and bothering her.”

  “But no one from this office has been there yet.” Miranda frowned.

  “Exactly.” Jane opened the folder and read through the page of notes on top. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “What are your instructions?”

  “I need to look into the wedding license.”

  “Then do that. I’ll call Flora and tell her about the phone call.” Miranda stood up, her eye on the phone. She seemed a little put out, like Jane was stepping in her territory.

  “Sorry…about the call.”

  Miranda shrugged. “Sounds like you learned your lesson.”

  She laughed, a little horse-like, but Jane rolled with it. She was the new girl, after all. Not everyone was going to like her.

  The drive to the Multnomah Building was simple enough. Long, with the accident on the highway, but she found her way there without getting lost. The line wasn’t as bad as she had expected either. And the result of her first moment as a real detective was kind of exciting.

  On the one hand, the bride and groom had gotten a marriage license, so their wedding and the insurance policy that went along with it looked legit. On the other hand, they had filed it—that is to say, they had actually gotten married. So…the insurance claim was a fraud. How could they get money for a wedding that didn’t take place if they had had a wedding? Jane grinned at the clerk. A good day’s detecting. Easy, fast, and fruitful for the client.

  Jane ordered the copy of the marriage license and went back to
Rocky and Flora’s office with most of her old confidence restored.

  Flora had been dead-on with her time estimate, and Jane found herself back at the SCoRI office at exactly five o’clock. Miranda took Jane back to Flora’s office. “Hey Jane. Flora asked that you wait here. She’s tied up right now, but especially keen to talk about that call you took.”

  Jane took a seat in a threadbare avocado colored velvet chair. “Did she have any ideas what could have been behind it?”

  “None that she told me. Unfortunately it came just as she and Rocky were hot on something else.” Miranda glanced at her watch. “Which reminds me, I have work to do. I don’t know what to tell you about the wait. Just that it is necessary and it won’t be arbitrarily long.” She slipped out of the office with a shake of the head.

  Jane pressed her hands against her knees. Stakes were high, but no need to fear. No real need, anyway. Nothing she had done had prompted the call from Maggie. She couldn’t have predicted it, or prevented it.

  The phone rang and Jane jumped. It rang three more times. Jane couldn’t take the suspense, so she reached for it, but a light went on next to line one. She retracted her hand and sat down again.

  Without knowing anything at all about the bride who had filed the claim, or her fiancé, Jane had no place to get a firm hold on who would be pretending to be SCoRI investigators.

  A minute ticked by on the wall clock. Jane pulled out her phone to check her email, but there was nothing new.

  She stared at the folder on Flora’s desk. It wouldn’t hurt to Google the primaries while she waited.

  An hour had passed without Jane realizing it. It had taken less than a minute to tie Maggie to her online persona, a video game designer who went by MotherofBridezilla, and once she had, there was more than plenty to read.

  MotherofBridezilla had designed the popular indie game Revenge of Bridezilla. RoB was first-person-shooter style, but more hair-pulling and face-scratching than actual shooting. For an indie game, it had been kind of a big deal. So much so that even Jane had downloaded a copy and had a fun night scratching and hair-pulling her way through the world’s worst wedding with Gemma. As for the game itself, the graphics had been jerky and there was a real lack of artistry in the style, but it had been fun, free, and quickly forgotten.