The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2

by Traci Tyne Hilton

Nonessential Trivia turned out to be a twenty-four hour internet café and brew pub. Jane ordered a breakfast sandwich from a slim girl with a Mohawk whose name tag said “Merry”, and settled in at a computer. The shop had polished concrete floors and varnished ply board cubical walls. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee was intoxicating. This was so Portland. While she waited for Maggie Frances to show up, she could enjoy the atmosphere and keep tabs on the online fracas.

  However, she had hardly gotten her search typed in when her breakfast was delivered—by a girl her own age with wavy brown hair and red, tear stained eyes. She glanced at Jane’s screen and almost dropped the plate. Her name tag said “Mags.”

  Jane offered a small smile and closed her search.

  Mags looked away, the height of internet café professionalism.

  “Thanks,” Jane said, her voice a bit weak.

  “Sure.” Mags didn’t make eye contact. “Let me know if you need anything.” She backed away from the desk and straightened her shoulders.

  Jane let her fingertips rest on her sandwich, but didn’t pick it up. Mags, surely Maggie Frances, had looked terrified.

  Jane waited until Mags was all the way back at the front counter to open her search again. A video game blogger had just posted an article with a time line outlining MotherofBridezilla’s crimes.

  MotherofBridezilla had broken the number one rule in game design two years previously: she had fallen in love with a journalist.

  Jane scratched her head. She had read up on Gamergate last night, the crazy nuclear devastation that was one game designer and one journalist hooking up and the positive reviews for a lame game that had followed. Not being a gamer, she had tried her hardest to withhold judgment while learning as much as she could about the case.

  But this one seemed different.

  MotherofBridezilla (Maggie Frances) had fallen in love with a journalist, yes, and was getting married. So the timeline included the date that she and Kyle Fish had started seeing each other, the day they had gotten engaged, and their wedding dates—both the day they actually had gotten married, and the day they were having the insured ceremonial wedding party—which would have been a week ago last Saturday—just two days after their civil ceremony.

  But this journalist wasn’t a game reviewer. He just reported game news. Though, on and off he had reviewed actual gaming systems.

  And that was where the trouble started. Because about a week and a half ago—exactly three days before the wedding—he had reviewed a handheld Android-like gaming device that had been Kickstartered. The game he used to test it was Bridezilla’s Revenge.

  The blogger who wrote up the timeline asked an important question. Would there have been a problem if the game Fish had used was of his own design?

  He hadn’t reviewed the quality of play of the game, just the processing speed, and the way the controls on the device handled.

  Jane finished up her sandwich and looked around for Mags, but didn’t see her anywhere.

  There were seventeen hundred twenty-eight comments on the blog, but Jane did her best to read all of them.

  One thread of conversation stood out from the rest.

  Devon Grosse, who had created the gaming device through his successful Kickstarter, hadn’t been seen or heard from online since the review of his device had been published.

  Jane clicked the link to the review of the game device.

  Kyle Fish had gotten it for free, for the review, and he had liked it alright, but not loved it.

  In fact, his article about it was a little boring, perhaps like the device itself. Jane clicked around Kyle’s website to read more of his style. It wasn’t all boring, but most of it was, so he wasn’t even too far out of character on the device review.

  Jane tipped back in her chair and looked around for Maggie. She was behind the register, reading on her phone.

  Jane picked up her plate and carried it to the front. “Thanks.”

  Maggie looked up, tears in her eyes.

  Jane lingered. “Are you okay?”

  Maggie pressed the ball of her hand to one eye. “No. I’m not.”

  Merry joined them. She placed her hand on Maggie’s lower back and led her away.

  In the spirit of snooping, Jane stayed where she was but pretended to read something on her own phone.

  “What happened?” Merry whispered. Apparently she had never been told that whispers carry better than a low voice does.

  “They found Devon,” Maggie also whispered.

  Jane kept her eyes trained on her phone, but it was hard.

  “Where has he been?”

  “They found his body in Johnson Creek.” Maggie choked on the words.

  “Oh!”

  Jane bit her lip. Devon was local. And dead. And deeply involved in the disappearance of Maggie’s fiancé.

  “Do you need to go home?”

  “No.”

  Jane allowed herself one quick glance at the two girls. Maggie had straightened up, her face pinched, but determined.

  “You can. It’s really okay.”

  “Absolutely not. I will not let the bullies win.”

  “Okay. No problem. Why don’t you go take a break though?”

  Maggie didn’t say anything, but she did slip through the door to the back of the restaurant.

  Jane went back to her machine and logged out.

  She needed to get to Flora and Rocky, even if she was early. They were happy to let her get her feet wet with insurance fraud, but she didn’t think they’d want her handling a murder all on her own.

  Chapter 3

  Miranda looked up from her work. She seemed to be manning a reception desk. “It gets easier.” She had a deep crevice of worry between her eyes—worry, or strain from staring at a computer screen.

  “Are you a detective?” Jane asked.

  “Kind of. I’m licensed, but it turns out I like admin a lot better than the dirty work.”

  “I’m sitting on a kind of urgent piece of news…should I just wait here, or…?” Jane wanted to burst into Flora’s office and spill the beans, but she had a feeling that wasn’t second day at work behavior.

  Miranda glanced at the door to Flora and Rocky’s office. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Why don’t you run down to Bean Me Up Scotty’s and get us some coffee?” She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Jane. “That’s the regular order. Flora will love you forever, and you can put it on our account if you hand them this card.” She passed Jane a laminated business card. “We’re good for it. Joey loves us.”

  By the time she got back with the coffee, Flora’s door was ajar.

  Jane lingered behind the half-opened door.

  Flora was at the desk engaged in conversation on a Bluetooth. Her mouth was pinched, even as she spoke. “I see what you are saying, however—” Apparently she had been interrupted. “No, the point is exactly the opposite. We never drop the ball and we won’t this time.” She let bark of a laugh escape

  Flora turned to her, rolled her eyes and held up one finger, asking Jane to wait. “Indeed.” Jane had never heard a single word sound so final before. Flora pulled the earpiece off. “A different case. Sorry about that.”

  Jane took a deep breath. “I think I’ve stumbled over something important.”

  Flora picked up a pen and held it at ready. “Good. What’s up?”

  Jane laid out the situation, from the failed breakfast to the connections between Maggie, Maggie’s game, Kyle’s review, and Devon being found dead in the river.

  Flora let out a slow breath. She scratched her eyebrow. She looked at her wall clock. “I wish Rocky were here.”

  Jane licked her lips. “I’d like to go to Johnson Creek and see if I can find out what’s been going on.”

  “I don’t think the police will talk to you.”

  “Probably not, but I could listen.”

  Flora shook her head. “They’d shoo you away pretty fast.”

  “I could call Grant.”


  “Let’s not bother him.”

  “Shouldn’t I do something?”

  Miranda knocked on the door and let herself in. “Jane had a lot on her mind.” She handed around the coffees that Jane had brought. “Is there anything I can be of assistance with?”

  “Yes, sit down. Our insurance fraud case just got a little complicated.” Flora sipped her coffee. “I want to send Jane back to—” she consulted her file, “Maggie’s house to see if she can sit down with Maggie’s parents. But I don’t want to send her alone, and I can’t get away just this moment. Are you in a good place for a side trip?”

  “Of course.” Miranda’s eyes didn’t agree with her words.

  Jane stifled a sigh. She didn’t want to be under Miranda’s wing, which was the wrong attitude, but such was life.

  “Okay. That’s settled. You both go down to connect with Maggie’s parents. Let Miranda lead the interview. Your goal is to get the names of the venders—caterers, bakery, flowers, all of that—from the bride’s mom. Then, hit that list, one item at a time. I want to see all of the orders. It should be pretty easy to see if the wedding plans were legitimate based on what she had ordered, how much she had paid in advance, etc.”

  “But what about the murder?” Jane leaned forward, her heart thumping. It sounded like Flora just wanted to stick to the insurance side of things. But how could she?

  “Our client is paying us to find out if there was any real intention of a wedding or if they had been defrauded. While what is happening regarding Maggie’s work life is interesting, we need to stick with a solid line of inquiry.”

  “Interesting?” Jane goggled. “She’s being hounded, her personal information is spread all over the internet with calls out to harm her. Her groom is missing, and her friend is dead. I’d say it’s not a case of fraud at all.”

  Flora tilted her head, a small smile on her face. “And yet when you found out that Maggie and Kyle had already married, you knew that the case had to be fraud.”

  Jane sat back. “I was wrong.” Her voice was small, and she hated that. She needed to be able to project the confidence she felt.

  “Ongoing cyber-bullying,” Miranda said. “This is a big deal.” Despite the heaviness of her words, her face was calm and her voice light. “I think you ought to keep Jane’s line of inquiry open. We haven’t dealt with a cyber-bullying case yet, but it was only going to be a matter of time”

  Flora frowned.

  Jane watched the dynamic between the two of them closely. Miranda seemed to be handling Flora, easing her over to this idea, without forcing her into it. Jane could learn something from her after all.

  Margot Frances invited Miranda and Jane into her living room. Through an archway, Jane could see the pile of dishes in the kitchen. The living room was full of cartons, papers, stacks of things one expected to see related to a big family event. One open crate near Jane’s chair was filled with rolls of gauzy tulle embellished with little shiny dots. Another, near her feet, was half full of tiny bottles of bubbles. It looked like Margot, at least, had been preparing for a real wedding. “How is Maggie holding up?” Jane asked.

  “It’s sweet of you to care.” Margot had deeply shadowed eyes behind her heavy black framed glasses. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her hair wasn’t styled, but the cut of her jacket, her trendy eyeglasses, and her manicure, made Jane think Margot was usually on top of those things. “She’s not doing well, as I’m sure you can understand.” Margot glanced at her phone, which sat on a cluttered side table. “She gets off of work soon. I hope you understand, I’d like to answer your questions to help her move forward with this insurance claim, but I would prefer to finish before she gets home.”

  “Of course.” Miranda spoke in disinterested, professional tones. “We merely need to confirm the expenses accrued. If you wouldn’t mind, we can quickly scan your invoices and then confirm the orders. It’s simply a matter of paperwork.”

  Margot ran a shaking hand through her hair. “Of course.” She glanced over her shoulder, and then at her phone again. “I’m just afraid…most of it was handled by Kyle and Maggie. I don’t have…I’m not sure what I have.” She kept glancing from table to table and stack to stack. “I’m not even sure where I would start looking.”

  “You said Maggie would be home soon?” Miranda’s tone had gone from calm to cold. Not downright mean, but Jane’s spine went rigid in response. She could only imagine what Margot was thinking.

  “You know…” Jane interposed, her own voice as warm as she could make it, “if you happened to have the names of the vendors…florist, caterer, that sort of thing, we could contact them and check out the paperwork on their side of things.” She looked at her hands, and then back up. “We realize you are dealing with more right now than just the cancelled wedding.”

  Margot’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She looked at her phone again.

  Jane also looked at it. Margot had missed 217 calls today, and 330 text messages. “Was your phone number part of the information that Voice of the Programmer users released?” She bit her lip.

  Margot closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Your poor daughter.” Jane reached a hand out to Margot, but she got no response, so pulled away.

  Miranda cleared her throat. “If you can make a list of vendors, I think we can work with that.”

  Margot picked up her phone, but her hands shook so badly that Jane reached to her again. She took the phone from her hand and set it down.

  “Let me turn that off for you,” Jane said.

  “But what if Maggie needs me?” Margot’s voice sounded stronger. She opened her eyes. It was like being strong for her daughter was the one thing she could rally herself for. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for your concern.”

  Jane passed the phone back.

  Margot took another deep breath, then tapped her screen a few times. She read off a list of wedding vendors. “If that is all you need…” She glanced toward the door.

  “If we run into a snag, we will contact you.” Miranda stood up.

  Jane passed Flora’s card to Margot. “There was just one more thing.”

  Miranda frowned.

  “Maggie let us know that someone came here on behalf of a credit card company claiming to be with SCoRI. I think you can guess they weren’t really with us.”

  Margot stared blankly at the business card.

  “Would you mind giving us a description of the person? Our bosses are concerned about this. Their professional reputation and all…” Jane trailed off and waited for Margot.

  After a moment, Margot responded, “Yes. Of course. He was about your age, I’d say.” She looked at Miranda as she said that. “He wore a nice suit, and thick framed glasses. He had…” she scrunched her face like she was thinking. “He had a scar on his chin, an old one. Like Harrison Ford. I noticed it right away. And…yes, dark brown hair. Almost black. He said his name was John.”

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate you taking a moment to help us. And please, if anything happens, anything at all, related to the game situation, to Kyle, anything we can help you with, please call.”

  Margot laid the card on the table. “Of course.” She led them out without another word.

  Jane was sure the card would be lost in the mess, and she was equally sure the family could use a house cleaner.

  Would it be a conflict of interest for her to come in and clean?

  Or maybe she could call on her old friend Holly who used to work with her.

  Miranda pulled out of the neighborhood with a roar. “Thanks for turning an hour’s worth of phone calls into a day of running around.”

  Jane ignored the dig. Her own inconvenience was nothing compared to what the Frances family was going through.

  Chapter 4

  They went to the bakery first, since it was on the same side of town. “You know that the fake SCoRI investigator had a distracting costume on, right?” Miranda asked.

  “Thick glass
es are a distracting costume?”

  “Black hair would be temporary dye, the scar would be stage makeup, and the glasses, yes. Thick glasses distract from his eye color. You will never find this guy.”

  Jane squared her shoulders. Miranda made a compelling case, but Jane wasn’t new to the murder-game, and had a strong intuition about the fake investigator. Even if he had been in a costume, she felt like they would ignore him at their own peril. “If he was a complete stranger, he wouldn’t need a costume. So…we start to look for guys your age who would want info from the Frances family they couldn’t get any other way.”

  “Like who?”

  Jane paused. “Like Kyle Fish.”

  Miranda laughed. “Yes, of course, because a pair of glasses would make him completely unrecognizable to his future mother-in-law. We’re looking for Superman now.”

  Jane stayed silent.

  What if he had been Kyle Fish? What would that mean for basically…everything?

  The bakery was a little shop tucked away on a quiet corner of an old neighborhood. Tall maple trees shaded the entry. The shop was warm and smelled like vanilla and caramel.

  Miranda faked a cough to get the baker’s attention. “I’m Miranda, and I’m doing an insurance fraud investigation on behalf of Cascadia Surety. We had some questions about the Fish-Frances wedding order. Do you have a moment?”

  The baker was a rosy, round woman with greying hair and big brown eyes. Her pink apron was lightly dusted with flour, and embroidered with the name Daphne. “Fish-Frances?” She furrowed her brows. “I didn’t take that order, but the name is familiar. What do you need to know?”

  “May we see the work order?” Jane jumped in. She edged her way closer to the counter as well. This was her investigation, not Miranda’s.

  “Sure.” Daphne went around to a big wooden file cabinet at the end of the counter. She riffled through the papers and then drew one out. “Here it is. Fish and Frances.” She handed the paper to Miranda.

  Jane restrained from grabbing it for herself.

  “I remember them now, formal cake, but not huge. They paid a deposit, but never paid the balance.”