“Did Josiah tell him?”
Christiana’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean?”
“Did Josiah tell him about the drugs so Wilt would take your daughter away?” Jane asked simply, without any extra emotion, either kind or harsh. She didn’t want to coddle Christiana. Not when so much of this had been her own doing.
“He must have, because Wilt came to me and said he’d demand a DNA test. That he’d take me to court. He, he’s a doctor, you see. In the ER, and, and he didn’t want her around the drugs. What could I do? I explained and explained that the kids didn’t know, that they’d never know. But Josiah…oh, help me.” Her cry sounded like a desperate appeal to her savior. “He did it, didn’t he? He told Wilt about the LSD.”
“He was a phony, Christiana. He was just out for money.” Francine kept her hand on Christiana, a soft but secure support.
“Josiah told me I had to give her away. That I had to for the ministry, so that we could help people. He took her away from me…” She stopped, just silent. No sobbing, no sighing. No more words.
“You can have her back now, Mom.” Theo looked up, finally. “I gave it all to Tiffany to get rid of. The drugs are gone. We can go back to Ohio, live near her. We can get Sis back. Okay?”
Christiana nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“He’s right,” Francine said. “You can start over now. Go back to Ohio. Find your daughter. Mend that relationship.” She swallowed. “You can mend your relationship with God, as well.”
Christiana looked up at her.
“Right now, it doesn’t feel possible, I know. But you can. Whatever demons you have been fighting inside, after all these years with Josiah, they can be gone. Done. All of that is over, and God…remember the simple church life you longed for? God is the Prince of Peace, and you can have all of that now.” Francine stopped and let her words linger.
Jane liked it. What Christiana needed, had longed for all this time, was the Prince of Peace. And if her guesses were right, Francine and Nick would help her, and maybe Theo, learn to believe again.
But first they’d all have to go through the awful public trial sure to follow the murder of a world-famous preacher by the pretty orphan in the wheelchair. It was almost too much to think of. Jane prayed that God would give them the strength to weather the storms ahead.
Then she slipped out of the hospital room, to give them privacy as they made plans for their future. She would add the Malachi family to her permanent prayer list. And Tiffany and Lucas as well, since they would need God now more than ever.
As for herself, she needed Jake. He had been MIA too long, and she knew he was waiting at his big, lonely house for a little company, so that’s exactly what she intended to give him.
Jane kicked back on the leather sofa in Jake’s den. She laid her hand over her eyes and let out a sigh. “I was totally almost right. I’ll never get any credit for it, but really, all things said and done, that was a good piece of detective work.”
“Um hm.” Jake set his feet on the matching leather ottoman, one at a time, like his knees were bothering him, or he was ninety years old.
“It took a while, but who else would have suspected the sweet girl in the wheelchair? Sure, I was wrong about her husband, but that’s a minor point. And without any physical evidence. It was all observation and deduction, you know?” Despite her overwhelming fatigue, Jane grinned. “I could get used to being right.”
“Um hm.”
“What’s eating at you?” It had been days since they had exchanged more than a quick text, and though she was dying to rehash every detail of the case, it wasn’t any fun if he wasn’t going to listen. And, using her own skills of deduction, she thought it seemed like something was bothering him.
Jake took a deep breath. “You know the Crawford Family Restaurant Corporation?”
“Uh, yes, I do.” Jane laughed. “Founded by Robert Crawford Sr. in 1950, operating Roly Burger, the Burger with the Roly-Poly Bun, for over sixty years and, more recently, Yo-Heaven, what Yogurt will be like in Heaven.”
“Yeah, those guys.”
“What about them?”
“They fired me.” Jake’s monotone voice revealed nothing, but his slumped posture and sluggish movements for the last fifteen minutes said he wasn’t happy about it.
“What?”
“Exactly my sentiments.”
“Okay, hold on. You are the owner and CEO, right? How exactly can they fire you?”
“The board of directors has had time to go over the many, many board meeting minutes from the year between Dad’s heart attack and his death. They found ‘compelling evidence’ to support turning the Maywood Roly Burger into a Yo-Heaven.”
“Oh no.” Jane sat up.
“I wanted that location to stay hamburgers for Grandpa’s sake. And for memories and nostalgia. And because the burgers are great. And also so that that bum, the mayor of Maywood, wouldn’t get his own way.”
“How could the board decide in the mayor’s favor instead of yours?”
“All those meeting minutes. Dad’s intentions were loud and clear. And even though I inherited Dad’s shares, Phoebe got Mom’s. And unlike Dad and Mom, Phoebe and I aren’t a perfectly united front. The board had more votes than I did all by myself.”
“But that doesn’t explain why they fired you. That seems like a big overreaction.”
Jake just nodded.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m just really bad at running a corporation. Apparently I’m not in my office doing office stuff as much as I should be.”
“Ahh.” A wave of guilt washed over Jane. She was pretty sure most of the times the flashy Jag had escorted her on detective business were actually times it ought to have been parked in the corporate office parking lot, down in Maywood, and Jake ought to have been parked at his desk.
“Did they give the job to your cousin Jeff?”
“It’s that obvious?”
“You once told me he would have been better at it.”
“He is.”
“That day I met Francine at your office, but the assistant wouldn’t let me in. Who were you fighting with?”
“Aunt Marjory. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
Jane moved to the floor next to Jake and rested her head on his knee. “It’ll be fine, though. Don’t worry about it.”
“The house is in a family trust.”
“What does that mean for you?” Jane traced the seam of his jeans. She wasn’t sure about the house, but she was fairly sure he’d have to stop buying two-hundred-dollar jeans.
“It means I have to get a job that pays the rent, or move out.”
Jane kissed his knee. “That stinks.”
“But it’s great about the murder thing. I’m proud of you.” Jake ran his fingers through her hair.
“It feels a bit shallow considering your news.” Jane turned her head so he could wind the length of her straight hair around his hand, and hoped it was as calming to him as it was to her. “What do you need to do next?”
“Remember the gig I had in Thailand?”
“Of course.”
“Great Commission International, the parent organization, wants to talk to me about a position in fundraising and development. Their head office is in Colorado Springs. I’m leaving Tuesday for a week of conversation about possibilities.”
Jane swallowed hard. “Would you have to move to Colorado?”
“I guess I’ll find out after a weeklong conversation.”
Jane pressed her face to his leg and didn’t say anything. Her thoughts swirled around like Dr. Seuss had written them. She loved Jake here or there, near or far. This wasn’t at all like when Isaac moved to Canada and her whole spirit revolted against it. When Jake said the word “Thailand,” her heart had said, “Yes!” And then, when he had said, “Colorado Springs,” her heart responded, “Anywhere!” It was a new, exciting feeling, and she liked it. Here or there, near or far. “Can I come?�
� she whispered, embarrassed to ask to tag along, but dying to hear him say yes.
“Without a chaperone? Nope.” Jake laughed, but his voice sounded more relaxed, even happy.
“Do you want to do fundraising and development for this missions organization?” Jane asked.
“Yes. I’d rather run away with them again, but barring that, I would love to raise money to save lives and souls around the world. Wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
Jake slid off his chair and joined Jane on the ground. He kissed her cheek. “But you and I had better pray about it. No more jumping in with both feet and hoping God will like what we did.”
Jane couldn’t agree more, so she closed her eyes, folded her hands, and hoped that the praying would be followed by a little more kissing, but even if it wasn’t, she was happy to be here, right now, praying with Jake.
In fact, she couldn’t ask for anything better.
Chapter 1
“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 m
urderers 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 looked 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.”
The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2 Page 20
