“No, not Hester, though she’s been a member here forever.” He stopped. “Funny you should guess her though. It was Hester’s sister-in-law Cora.”
“You wouldn’t have contact information for Cora, would you? Maybe she knows the couple well enough to testify that they weren’t just trying to con the company.” She smiled, as innocently as she could, though her heart was drumming like a marching band.
He leafed through a pamphlet holder on his desk. “Here, have a directory. Cora Paige is in it, under the P’s of course.” He stood up. “I hope she can help you out. I just hate what has happened to this poor couple.”
She took the directory. “Thank you. I do as well.”
Cora had suggested this pastor. Cora was related to Hester, who had sold them insurance. Could Cora have planted a seed of doubt in the pastor’s mind in an attempt to help Hester out?
Jane skipped out on the next item on her list and called Cora Paige, but no one answered. She couldn’t think of a good message to leave, so she hung up, disappointed.
Jane managed to validate the rest of the items on her to-do list with no complications, which was frankly disappointing. She had wanted to stumble over some other clue that pointed her to this Paige family and their meddling ladies.
What did two women in their sixties have against Maggie and Kyle anyway? To stick them with insurance that wasn’t a good deal, and hook them up with Pastoral counseling that hadn’t worked out…
Were they master blackmailers? If so, what secret could they possibly know, and how did they learn it?
While pondering those questions over tea in the living room of her apartment, her phone rang.
“Someone from this number called earlier today.” The voice was male, and unfamiliar.
“Who is this?” Jane yawned. She had made an awful lot of calls today.
“Shane Paige—Paige Tech. Ring any bells?”
Paige? It sure did.
Jane sat up. “I was calling for Cora Paige…I got the number from the church directory.”
Shane laughed. “Ah. No biggie. She’s not in. Can I take a message?”
The questions were churning now. “Sure, um…Cora recommended a premarital counselor to a friend of mine. I just had some questions. You know, before I committed to anything. So sorry for calling the business number. Don’t know how I made that mistake.”
“Oh, that’s just Mom. She can’t be bothered to set up two phone lines.”
“Your mom runs a tech company? She must be some kind of lady.”
“You said it. So, you want her to call you back, or not?”
“Yeah, that would be great. My name is Jane, she can call me back at this same number. Just curious though, what kind of tech is your mom into?”
Shane paused, and then said something kind of muffled. “Sorry. What was your question?”
“Nothing really. I was just curious what Paige Tech does.”
“With a name like Paige? Ebook publishing, of course. I’ll let her know you called.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as the call was over, Jane Googled Paige Tech on her phone. The website was pretty iffy…as though someone’s grandma had designed it themselves, in HTML. But the content was pretty interesting.
Paige Tech published mostly books about game cheat codes.
And Shane claimed it was his mom’s business.
Jane scrolled through the sixty-three books listed, and cross referenced them at Amazon. Not all of them were for sale in both places, but the ones that were at Amazon didn’t seem to be selling. She quickly checked Barnes and Noble but they weren’t available there.
Though sixty-three books of game cheat codes and hacks was an impressive library for one person, it didn’t seem like enough to sustain a thriving business. Shane had thought perhaps someone calling the number from the church directory might have been calling about the business, so maybe Paige Tech had a good reputation in the gaming world.
But did gamers make phone calls?
Jane couldn’t take the lazy route any longer. She had too many questions to rely on her phone. She stretched and yawned, and heaved herself out of her overstuffed sofa.
But before she could get her laptop turned on, there was a soft knock at the door.
Softly knocking Shave and a Hair Cut.
She yawned, a warm glow filling her.
Jake.
She let him in and greeted him with a sleepy kiss.
“My love.” He dipped her and kissed her again. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”
“Right back atcha.” It was funny, the little break almost completely soothed her righteous anger.
“And thank you for checking in on Phoebe. I visited her before I came over.”
“Of course! I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” Jane glanced towards her bedroom, half afraid she’d forget the things she wanted to Google.
“She’s doing well. They are going to discharge her in the morning.” He looked around the room. “I see your bags aren’t packed.”
“To be honest,” Jane said, “I haven’t had two minutes to consider hiding out at the Crawford mansion, much less the time to pack for it.”
“Is Gemma here?” Jake asked.
“No, she texted earlier to let me know she was out with Grant tonight. I don’t expect her back until much later.”
“Those two…”
“I know, but what can I do? She says they are above board and saving themselves—that he’s a good, Southern Baptist boy. I have to trust her, no matter how often she doesn’t come home before morning.”
“She’s a grown woman, I guess.”
“And he’s a grown man. And imagine how annoyed she would be to have me questioning her actions while at the same time considering moving to your place for a week or two.”
“She’s invited as well. And she knows where we stand.”
“Does anyone really know where someone else stands? All anyone really has to judge by is appearances, and what would appearances tell the world if I moved in with you? Even with Gemma and Phoebe there?”
“That I was taking care of my woman.” He encircled her waist with his arm and nibbled her ear.
She scooched away, but laughed. “They’d define taking care of differently than you do, and they’d expect that both Phoebe and Gemma approved.”
Jake sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
“So I will have to take precautions, be wise in my actions, and trust God to take care of me, even though a fledgling journalist popped over to see me uninvited and your sister got hit by a car.”
“You make me sound like I overreacted when you put it that way.”
“I’m trying to keep some perspective, you know? If I let myself think someone is trying to hurt me and those I love, I might as well move to Phoenix with my parents and get out of the detective business altogether.”
“Or just marry me and let me take care of you.”
“But you wouldn’t want me to rush the wedding just so I won’t be scared.”
“You have very little understanding of the male psyche, my dear.”
“You would want that?”
“A beautiful girl who can’t wait to marry me because I can protect her? You’re right. It would be crazy for a man to like that.” He laughed. “Get your coat or purse or whatever kind of girl stuff you need. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Jane opened her mouth to protest, and looked toward her bedroom door again.
“I interrupted something.”
“Give me three minutes to make some notes. I just don’t want to forget what I need to look into.”
Jake tilted his wrist up like he was timing her on a stop watch. “On your mark, get set, GO!”
Jane ran to her room and made her list, careful to be sure it was readable. She really had missed Jake, and for once, she would rather see what he was up to than dig into her case.
Jake took her all the way across the river to the McMennim
ins with sweeping views of the Columbia. He had underestimated the wait time, but they didn’t mind spending an extra hour walking the path that fronted the river.
A cool breeze inspired them to walk a little closer than normal, shoulder to shoulder, her hand wrapped over his arm. She loved the smell of him: a little bit sporty-man deodorant, a little bit Dial soap. Even though he wasn’t a giant of a man, he had a few inches on her—just enough to make her feel safe.
“You work harder than any other three people combined.” Jake’s tone was low and romantic, for her ears only. “So I feel it is my duty to remind you, now and again, that you deserve a little pampering.”
“The protestant in me begs to differ.” She leaned a little closer and teased him. “Who deserves anything but death?”
“This is romance, my pet. Not theology. And speaking completely from a heart of passion, you deserve everything good this world can give you.”
“Sweet talker,” she murmured.
“Just so you know, you can put our wedding off until after the Thailand trip, but once I finally get you into my bedroom—”
She swatted his arm lightly.
“I mean get you down the aisle, I am going to take very good care of you. Phoebe mentioned she gave you a little insight into the way our finances work.”
“A brief outline, anyway.”
“Put it this way, then, fundraising and development folks get a nice salary. I’ll show you my paystub. The family money, in the trust, isn’t for living on. You know what I mean?”
“Not really.” She didn’t care either. Money came from work. That’s all there was to it.
“It’s for the future. For retirement. For educating the kids. It’s tied up pretty nicely. Phoebe thinks I get an allowance from the trust, but I don’t take it. I have everything reinvested. It may sound foolish, but I promise it makes sense on paper.”
“It doesn’t sound foolish to me.”
“Then there’s the house.”
Jane shuddered involuntarily. The house was breathtaking. A Laurelhurst mansion, almost one hundred years old. Jake’s grandfather had had it built and it had been passed down to him, after his parents died. Jane had started her cleaning business with the Crawford’s as her first clients. And her detective business, too.
“I can’t sell it. Much as I’d like to get out from under it. It’s a bear to maintain. And the taxes.” He grimaced.
“Can’t you use your trust money to pay the taxes?”
“Yeah. I could do.” He was quiet for a while. Not his usual self. “Phoebe’s mental health problems are real. She does well, but you never know when she is going to have a struggle. And I don’t ever want her to be homeless.”
“I don’t either.”
“I can’t make her live in the house. And I can’t make her live with me. But I can always have an open door for her. How do you feel about that?”
Jane hadn’t given a lot of thought to the idea of Phoebe living with them. Phoebe was smart, beautiful, funny, and a talented athlete. There didn’t seem to be a lot of reason to worry that she wouldn’t have a home.
“Your silence indicates a problem.” Jake stiffened.
“Not a problem. I just hadn’t ever thought about it before. It deserved thinking about.” She pulled him closer again. “Your family is my family. If she needs to live with us, of course she can.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I cannot tell you how much I love you. Actually, I can. I love you a lot. A whole lot.”
She tucked closer into his arm. “But I think you were getting to something else about the house.”
“Yeah. I was. So, since Cousin Jeff is running the family business now, Aunt Marjory has made it plain that she expects him and his family to get to move into the house.”
“But it’s your house!” Indignation hit Jane like a slap to the face. “She can’t do that!”
“No. Technically she can’t. And it’s ridiculous to think she could. But, in her favor, she’s not asking for it for free. She’s suggesting he rent it from us, well, from me. The offer is good. He’d pay rent, utilities, do small maintenance jobs. I’d take care of taxes, which are no small thing, but the rent would be more than enough to cover it.”
Jane took a deep breath. It was less insulting when put that way. “But why your house?”
“It was Jeff’s grandpa’s house, too. My dad was the oldest kid, but Jeff is the oldest grandkid. Legally, yes, the house is mine. Financially, well, it’s complicated. And Jeff and Heather have five kids, so they could use the space.”
“How do you feel about it?” Jane turned the question to him, since her own feelings were an unattractive mixture of selfishness and envy. A mansion and five kids? Would she ever have a life like that?
But it wasn’t the life she wanted.
But who doesn’t, at some level?
Well, she didn’t.
But, she kind of did.
“Relieved.” He grinned. “It makes taking you to foreign parts to preach the gospel and save the lost so much simpler.”
She squeezed his arm. That’s what they both wanted. And maintaining mansions back home made it awful difficult. “So what about Phoebe?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? She makes pretty good money. She has a nice little income from the trust. There’s no reason she has to live with her brother right now.”
“And in the future?”
“In the future we just make sure there’s a bed for her somewhere. I don’t see any reason we can’t put her in the attic.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “We can make room for her somewhere.”
Jake’s phone beeped. The table was ready for them.
Over a dinner of burgers and fries—not as good as the old Roly Burgers they used to make, but not bad—they sketched out a dream for their future overseas.
“You really think we could get our support together in two years?” A wellspring of happiness threatened to sweep Jane off her feet. In all her days of wanting to leave, dying to leave, begging God to let her leave, this was the first time it sounded like she would actually get to leave.
“Definitely. However, you would still be a year away from having enough hours for your PI license.”
“So?” Jane rested her chin on her hand and sipped her Coke through a straw. “Who cares about that?”
“God might.” Jake pulled a very serious face, but his eye twinkled. “Seriously. If we feel like he is calling you to this right now, we need to consider that he might desire for you to see it through. At least until you had your license.”
“Detecting would be something to do on furlough.” She was joking. She had no intention of staying long enough to get the license if the alternative was heading overseas.
“Talk to Flora and Rocky. If anyone would have insight into it, they would.”
She crinkled her nose. She suspected folks like Flora and Rocky would highly support the idea of following through with your plans. Another thought nagged at her. “What about Phoebe?”
“While we’re gone?” Jake asked. “I’ve got a plan. I don’t want to leave her with just Aunt Marjory. She might turn out to be a tough-love kind of lady. I don’t know. She hasn’t faced anything like this before. Her kids are so normal. But if we rent our place to Phoebe while we’re gone, she would at least have a roof over her head.”
A quick, horrifying vision of the ways Phoebe could destroy her home flashed through Jane’s mind, but she shrugged. “True. That could do it.”
“Speaking of Phoebe again, you know that I manage her trust. If my plane plunges into the ocean this fall, Marjory—who might just prefer to let Pheebs hit rock bottom before she helps—gets to be in charge.”
“She might not. You said you didn’t know if she was a tough-love kind of lady.”
“I’m not one hundred percent positive, but you’ve met her. She’s not who I’d pick to have care for my sister’s fortune.” He lifted his eyebrow and leaned forward.
Jane’s breath caught in her throat. “You want me to take responsibility.”
“You could only do it if we were married before I met my untimely death.”
Jane pushed her drink away. Her stomach was full of rocks. What vicious turn had her romantic evening just taken?
“I didn’t really know how to put it and make it sound romantic. But in addition to knowing you were well cared for if the worst should happen, I would know she was well cared for, too.”
Jane closed her eyes.
Now if she didn’t marry him in the next month or two she was the most selfish person on the planet.
Chapter 15
A hard fisted pounding on the hollow bedroom door woke Jane the next morning. “Turn. It. Off.” Gemma’s gravelly morning voice rose above the din of the knocking and some other obnoxious sound coming from outside.
Jane peeled her eyes open and checked the time. Four a.m. Early, even for her. She pulled her pillow over her head. “UUUUUGH.”
Gemma opened the door. “Don’t ugh me. Turn off your car alarm.”
Jane pressed the pillow over her face a little tighter.
Gemma pulled it off and threw it across the room. “Your car. Alarm. Ugh.” She had deep shadows under her eyes and her usually perfect, glossy bobbed hair was ratty. “Turn it off.” She fell back across the bed.
Jane sat up and pressed her hands over her eyes. “Not mine. Can’t be mine. Nothing to steal.” But she was waking up, and it did sound like the alarm on the modest-but-reliable car she relied on. She dragged herself to the window. Shards of glass were scattered around her parking spot. Her back window was toast. Something hot pink was spread everywhere, hanging out the window, strewn across the parking lot. “Vandals. Call Grant.”
“After the alarm.”
Jane shook the fog out of her head and grabbed her keys off the desk. The alarm stopped with the push of a button. “Is this the new TP-ing? What did they do to my car?” Instead of calling the cops, she just stared at the mess and tried to make sense of it.
“What did you have in all those boxes?”
The Plain Jane Mystery Box Set 2 Page 31
