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

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Miranda sneezed. Her eyes were already very red. The small shop was strongly scented—fresh flowers.

  Jane inhaled deeply, thankful she wasn’t afflicted with Miranda’s curse. “Would you mind letting us have a copy of their paperwork? The order, the invoice, any receipts.”

  “Not at all. Give me just a moment in the back.” Bobbi left the roses where they were and bustled into an office with her name on the door.

  Miranda sneezed again.

  “Sorry about this,” Jane said. “Want to wait in the car?”

  “Yes.” Miranda didn’t move. “But I’d better not.” She didn’t sound as cranky as she had earlier, so perhaps the granola bar had done the trick.

  Bobbi came back with a sheaf of papers stapled at the corner. “This is everything.” She frowned. “Poor girl.”

  Jane accepted the papers. “Before we go, you said it was a ten thousand dollar order? Did she pay it in full in time for the wedding?”

  “Oh yes.” Bobbi sighed. “I marked the check numbers down on the invoice. She paid half when she ordered it and half a month before the wedding. I was a little worried because the balance was late, but she got it done, and the checks cleared.”

  “Hmmm.” Jane flipped through a couple of pages. “And you took the order yourself?”

  “I arrange all of the weddings myself.”

  Miranda sneezed four times in rapid succession.

  “We’ve got to run. Can I call you if we have any further questions?”

  “Of course.” Bobbi taped up the box with the rose arrangement. “Mornings are best.”

  “Thanks.”

  Miranda was in the car before Jane got her last word out.

  “Why,” Jane asked once she was in the car, “would she flake out on the food but make sure her flowers were paid in full?”

  Miranda sneezed again. “Gah. I hate florists.”

  Jane went through the flower order carefully. “So, no ideas?”

  “Maybe she likes flowers better than food.”

  Jane pulled her eyebrows together and frowned at the papers. Whatever good the granola bar had done, the flowers had undone it. She was clearly on her own again, which she preferred anyway.

  Five

  The next day went by in a whirlwind. Jane sunk into her couch, a cup of hot tea in her hand. The evening had turned cold and misty, and after a long day cleaning houses, she was ready to zone out. Balancing her cleaning clients and the SCoRI work was going to be a challenge. She found herself thinking only of Maggie, Maggie’s many crises, and the murder of Devon Grosse while scrubbing toilets. It was so bad that she left a load of clothes in the wash at her first client’s house and didn’t remember until well after lunch. Fortunately she had been able to get in, get them dry, and get back out before anyone more than the kid who mowed their lawn saw her.

  The day before, after running around with cranky Miranda all afternoon, she had had some time alone with her collected papers to study and theorize. Her best theory was that Maggie had switched vendors for the food and had not informed her mom of the change. When she reported back to Flora, Flora agreed, but there was nothing to do about it at the moment. Everyone in the office felt that Maggie needed a little time before someone from their office contacted her, and right now, Maggie was the only one who would know about food and cake vendors.

  Now Jane sat in her living room with the cozy light of a few scattered candles, her tea, and Jake.

  Jake was quieter than usual.

  “How are things with the Big Donor?”

  “It’s going all right. We’re meeting at Ginger Pop tomorrow to work on our itinerary.”

  “That sounds fun.” Schmoozing on behalf of charity was a pretty cool gig. Jane half wished she could make up the rest of her rent by taking old men out to dinner instead of by scrubbing toilets.

  Jake rolled to his side and snuggled up against Jane. “I don’t want to talk about work.” He nibbled her earlobe.

  Heat rushed over her face in waves, and she scooted a tiny bit away. “Anything good on Netflix?” She picked up the remote. She had no interest in being a statistic, but dating as an adult with your own place made it hard to keep her hands to herself, so to speak.

  Jake leaned his head on her shoulder. “I don’t want to watch TV.” His tone matched his body language. Mopey.

  “We could play cards.” Jane shifted, but picked up his hand in hers. No need to make him feel rejected, after all.

  “You said you might have an answer for me today.” Jake sighed.

  “It’s only Friday.” Jane squeezed his hand. “And I haven’t had a lot of time to think.”

  Jake sat up and pressed her hand to his lips. “I know.”

  “Seriously, though, let’s play cards, or go out.” Jane shifted to the edge of the couch. “I have no idea when Gemma is getting back.”

  “I just want to take care of you,” Jake whispered, this time the put-on mopey tone gone, but his big, brown eyes were full of honest emotion. “If you promise we can have a real talk about it tomorrow, I will pretend I’m not dying inside while I wait for your answer, and I will let you pick the show.”

  Jane snuggled back down into the crook of his arm. “It’s a deal.” She reached for her remote, but her phone rang.

  “Digame,” Jake answered. In Spanish. “No, I’m sorry, she isn’t available.”

  Jane held out her hand, but he didn’t put the phone in it.

  “Mostly because she is on a highly romantic date right now, and while I believe her work is significant and valuable, I don’t want her to work during our very romantic date.”

  Jane grabbed for the phone but Jake turned away.

  “I’m sure you do have a problem with her coming to your house. But you know what? I’ve got an even bigger problem with it because as far as I can tell, you’re kind of a jerk.”

  “Jake, stop!” Jane’s heart was beating out of her chest. He had to be talking to Maggie. “Give me the phone.”

  “You know what? Based on the heat of your words, I can only assume you are absolutely correct, and that the love of my life is a stupid parasite trying to gain fame and fortune from your troubles, but the reality is, she was hired by your insurance company to do a job. If you have a problem with that, take it up with them.” Jake stood up and walked away.

  Apparently he had meant it when he said he wanted to take care of her. She got up and shadowed him. She wanted to tackle him and wrestle the phone away from him, but at the same time, she kind of wanted to hear what else he had to say. She did, however, place one hand over his as it held the phone, and her other hand on his waist, ready to grab it at the drop of a hat.

  “All you have to do is call your insurance company and ask them who they hired to investigate. I know for a fact that whatever you were getting up to online with the whole game thing has nothing to do with this.”

  Jane pulled the phone away from his head so she could hear the other end.

  “Unless, of course, your fiancé was killed by one of the lunatics that is.”

  She grabbed it, twisting it out of his hand. “I am so sorry. That was absolutely insensitive of Jake and I can’t believe he said it.” She was breathless, getting the words out as fast as she could.

  “What?” Maggie sounded breathless as well, as though she had spent all her air on yelling at Jake.

  “I am sorry for how he spoke to you just now. The last thing you want to think about is Kyle being dead.”

  Maggie made a sound like suppressing a sob.

  “I know you wanted me to stay away, but your insurance company hired us, and I had to do my job. I tried to do it respectfully.”

  “Yes.” The word was clipped, and followed by a deep breath.

  “And I know you are going through the worst thing ever.”

  Maggie paused. “Right.”

  “And I would be angry, too. But, I swear to you, I am not part of the angry mob. I want to prove your wedding wasn’t fake so you can get your
insurance settlement.”

  Maggie exhaled loudly.

  “And…I think I can. If only you could answer a few questions for me. If you could, then I could file the report and you could be on your way to recouping your losses.” Jane twirled her hair around her finger and took a deep breath. Maggie was calmer, and maybe she would play along.

  “What do you need to know?” There was an edge to Maggie’s voice, but she was using whole sentences. Baby steps.

  “Who did you end up getting to make the wedding cake?”

  “No cake.”

  “Er…” Jane chewed her lip. “I see. What about the catering?”

  “We hired the college to do the catering. They were going to make a sundae bar instead of a cake.” Maggie swallowed another sob. “Kyle loves ice cream.”

  “I see! So the other vendors, the one your mom had listed, you had changed your mind?”

  “Yes. See, Kyles’s aunt…” Another deep breath. Maggie may have had a short fuse, but she was working hard to keep it together. “Kyle’s aunt runs the culinary arts department at the community college. She really, really wanted to do this for us.”

  “Ah! Can I have her name and number and maybe a copy of your receipts?”

  “Yes, of course. But not over the phone. I don’t trust that the line is secure. I don’t want the VoP crowd to have her information.”

  “I understand.” Jane gave her lock of hair a little tug. Was Maggie lying? Surely not.

  “Come and see me at work tomorrow. It’s better to meet in a public place. Nonessential Trivia, in the Pearl. Do you know how to get there?”

  “Yes, I can get there. I’ve been by before.” Jane’s heart thumped, but she might as well admit it now. Maggie could easily recognize her.

  “Fine.” Back to single words again. “I work from eight to three tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Jane would have said more, but Maggie hung up. Jane set her phone on the counter. “I was able to save the situation, but please don’t do that again.” She didn’t make eye contact with Jake. She didn’t trust herself not to smack him if she did.

  “You didn’t hear what she was saying about you. She’s kind of a monster.” Jake slipped the lock of hair that Jane was still toying with from her finger to his. “A real spoiled brat.”

  “You don’t have any idea what she is going through.” Jane clenched her jaw. “She is in a time of extreme acute stress right now.”

  “Okay.” He let the hair slip from his fingers and held two hands up. “I’m sorry.”

  Jane scrunched her mouth. Sure, he was sorry now. And sincere. But she was still mad about it. The mad didn’t just go away because he was sorry. He had totally trampled on her professionally, and almost destroyed her investigation.

  “I’ll see myself out.”

  Jane let herself glance his direction as he walked out. She wasn’t the only one clenching her jaw. It would appear that Jake thought chewing out Persons of Interest was part of taking care of her. This was definitely a check on the “con” side of the pro-cons list for getting married sooner rather than later.

  Jane made it to Nonessential Trivia at two minutes to eight. A few scruffy college types were there as well. She ordered a toasted bagel and a flat white coffee, took a seat at the front bar, and waited for Maggie to have a moment for her. She hoped to be sympathetic enough this morning to fully make up for Jake’s phone tirade. And she hoped against hope that the invoices and contact information Maggie had for her were not fakes and forgeries.

  Jane’s smooth, sweet Australian-style coffee was half gone before Maggie joined her.

  “Jane?” Maggie’s eyes were deeply shaded, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, but her clothes were crisp and clean. She looked ragged, but not conquered.

  “Yes.” Jane held out the laminated business card she had used at the coffee shop. Eventually she’d have to have something more...legitimate…to prove she was allowed to ask questions. “I’m Jane Adler, working for the SCoRI investigation office.”

  Maggie held out a manila envelope. “I apologized to my mom for not keeping her up with the wedding changes. She wasn’t paying for anything, so I hadn’t really kept her in the loop.”

  Jane gripped the fat envelope.

  “Plus, the other caterer and the cake lady were her contacts. Friends of friends or something. I felt guilty about ditching them. But that’s all of the receipts and stuff. Copies, I mean. I kept the originals.”

  Jane tapped the brad that closed the envelope. “I think I’ll look over them while I finish my coffee. That way, if there is anything I need to know, I can just ask.”

  Maggie looked over her shoulder. “Okay.” She headed up to the computer café area, wielding a small lamb’s wool duster. She glanced back at the front door of the café often, but no crowds had gathered to lynch her.

  Jane opened the envelope and pulled out the invoices one by one. The florist information matched what she had. The community college catering documents were thorough, though they were just Excel docs, so they could also have been fake. In addition, Maggie had given her the room rental, tuxedo order, a receipt for a large number of jewelry items—perhaps gifts for the bridal party. Information about a photographer and videographer and DJ were included, but no receipts. Jane would have to call them and find out what their payment policy usually looked like. She was surprised to find a receipt labeled “premarital counseling” and, of course, the information about the civil wedding they had already had. She felt a little of her old confidence coming back.

  If she handed this over to Cascadia Surety, she was fairly certain Maggie would get her insurance money.

  Too bad she couldn’t get her husband as well.

  Jane slid the information back into the envelope and Googled Maggie Frances/MotherofBridezilla on her phone.

  Things had heated up overnight.

  There were now two pages of search results with her home address, phone number, place of work, and family names all listed. The comments on the first two links were mostly game enthusiasts planning different ways to destroy Maggie’s life.

  The most creative threat involve red gelatin and the cars of everyone who Maggie had ever met.

  The most terrifying was the detailed plans to break into her house at night and slit her throat.

  Jane closed Google with a shaking hand.

  Slit her throat? Over the review of a crowd funded gaming device that merely used her game in the test?

  And she hadn’t even written the review.

  Jane attempted to take the last sip of her coffee, but she spilled it on her shirt instead. She grabbed a napkin and blotted at it. If the game device review was so very wrong, why was the hate all directed at Maggie? Why wasn’t Kyle getting any of the attention?

  Maybe because he had disappeared?

  Or had he disappeared because the angry mob had already taken care of him?

  Jane went back online. She searched through pages and pages of Google results, but found very little hate against Kyle. In fact, she found at least three strongly worded cases in his defense, calling him the victim of a gaming seductress, someone who preyed on men to further her own interests. The comments to these posts reflected the rest of the drama. More ways to punish Maggie.

  It looked highly unlikely that anyone involved in the review drama had been responsible for the disappearance of Kyle Fish.

  But what about the death of the guy who created the device? Had anyone known he was in the Frances-Fish wedding? Had they been angry about the review’s display of old-boys-club cronyism? She searched for Devon Grosse. Local news stories about finding his body. Other reviews of his device. The blog updating his crowd funding and development. No strong emotion of any kind.

  So the angry mob against Maggie, the disappearance of her husband, and the murder of their mutual friend were completely unrelated?

  Impossible.

  Jane pocketed her phone, laid some money on the counter for her breakfast and a
tip, and left. SCoRI might not have been hired to crack this nut, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

  Six

  Jane’s home cooking had never been a reason to write home, so she decided to lure Gemma and Grant to a private tête–à–tête with Thai carry out.

  It worked.

  She also invited Jake because it would have been weird not too, but she was still pretty mad about last night’s scene with Maggie.

  Grant scooped a forkful of coconut curry. He grinned “I know a bribe when I taste one. What do you need?”

  Jane sipped her Coke. “I need to bounce my thoughts off of an expert.”

  “Flora and Rocky are experts in private detection. I’m just a copper”

  Jane set her glass down. “Flora and Rocky are doing a great job of leading me on the insurance case.”

  “But?”

  “But behind the case of insurance fraud is something far more interesting, and I wanted to know what you thought about it.”

  “About the Grosse murder?”

  “And the disappearing Fish.”

  “What delightful dinner conversation.” Gemma dipped a salad roll into a cup of peanut sauce and frowned. “Can we maybe discuss gross fish after we eat?”

  Grant patted her hand. “This is the life of a copper, my dear. You’ll have to come to terms with it at some point.”

  Gemma scrunched her mouth. “Phooey.”

  “And the online bullying,” Jane said. “They’re all connected, I’m sure. But I can’t figure out how. Devon designed a game device. Maggie programmed a game. Kyle reviewed the device using the game and then married Maggie. Devon was going to be their best man. On the internet, great hordes of people have planned many elaborate ways to kill Maggie, including one chilling plan to sneak into her home at night and slit her throat. But nobody has a word to say against Kyle or Devon.” She sipped her Coke again, to calm herself. The throat-slitting threats still sent shivers of pure fear up her spine. “And yet, Devon is the one dead and Kyle is missing.”