Dirty Little Murder (13 page)

“Jane…”

“Or was she truly out back on the property? If so, there was a third person. Someone in the house with me the whole time, who knew about the towels and thought they might be evidence.” Jane sat on the step. “But they would not have known that I was supposed to be there. They would have heard the alarm and panicked.”

The detective opened his mouth, but he closed it again without saying anything. He narrowed his eyes at Jane.

“If there was a third person, where were they?” Jane looked around the room. “Two closets. Did they hear me coming down the hall and then hide in a closet? Then they could have jumped out, grabbed the evidence that they had been there, and then run out the back.” Jane walked to the backdoor and stared at the green fields behind the house. “And then what? How did they get away?” The suburban acres swept down a hillside. Somewhere just behind the distant clump of trees were the outbuildings that turned the McMansion into horse property. Jane’s heart thumped. The answer would be out there, far from the hot tub. It just had to be.

She turned back to the detective. “What did they find out in the stables?”

The detective smiled his disarming, easy-going smile and shrugged. “I can’t discuss that.”

Jane bit her tongue. Of course he couldn’t say anything. She was ancillary to the situation. A witness at best, a suspect at worst.

“I picked up the wet towels, threw them to the hamper, and missed. Then I tripped on them as I tried to run from the room. I don’t know what happened next.” She tried to hold his gaze with confidence, but her eyes began to swim.

“Thanks for meeting me here.” The detective offered her a gentle smile. “I’ll get in touch with you again, I’m sure. Your account of finding the body is very important.”

Jane chewed on her cheek to keep the tears from spilling over. His cool, calm delivery was so condescending.

The detective cleared his throat. “I think we’re done here. You can go home now.” Though dismissive, his tone was kind.

“If you find out what happened to the towels—”

“Then we’ll find out what happened to
Douglas
.” He lifted his eyebrow and smiled, one dimple popping out. “I had thought of that.”

Jane drove away wondering if Detective Bryce’s attitude was best described as gentle, condescending, or fake. Figuring out which one it was seemed almost as important as finding out what had become of the wet towels.

Jake texted over lunch
. “Call me, maybe?”

Jane sipped her coffee and considered it. If anyone would get how freaked out she was right now, it was him.

He sent another message on the heels of the first. This time it was a video of a goat “singing,” if you could call it that, along with some old Crystal Gail. And yet, it wasn’t exactly rude. Jane choked on a laugh. She should text him back.

She watched the video again. Jake, Jake, Jake. She took a bite of her sandwich and replied, “lol.”

He responded again. “The song, or calling me?”

She shook her head at her phone. “Both.”

Jane set her phone down and worked on her lunch and the little murder problem. Tomorrow morning she could run down to the stables. She had not been there yet, and it could be telling.

Or she could sit and visit with Caramel, if Caramel had clothes on.

Jane picked the seeds off the crust of her bread. She couldn’t just “sit and visit” or pop into the outbuildings. She needed a plan.

It seemed clear to her that someone had been in the tub with
Douglas
. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been wet towels on the step. The person had disappeared before she got into the room, so they had to have heard her coming. And they hadn’t gone far, or the towels and laundry basket wouldn’t have just disappeared. And if they had just stuck themselves back into the closet they would have been found by the cops. So the person and the basket and the towels had just gone outside. It was the only possibility.

Jane peeked at her phone. No new message. She checked again. Still, it was better. She didn’t need Jake pestering her while she had so much important stuff to do.

She dialed Isaac’s number. Yet again, no answer. She was disappointed—sort of.

Seven o’clock
rolled around, and Jane, Kaitlyn, and Valerie were stationed on three sides of a small table in Bean Me Up Scotty’s for their very important Friday meeting.

Jane’s back was ram rod straight. She held her cup of decaf close to her mouth, but didn’t sip.

Valerie frowned into her large cappuccino.

Kaitlyn sat like Jane, but with a thin line of tears glistening on one cheek. “I knew the cut was coming, but I didn’t know it would hurt so bad.”

Jane was torn. She had grown to like Kaitlyn, but the melodrama was exhausting.

“Can you get another part time job to help make up the loss?” Valerie’s suggestion came in her matter of fact tone. Not cold hearted, but not easily moved either.

“It’s the economy…” Kaitlyn wiped the tears away with her good hand.

“I meant it when I said I could offer you work cleaning.” It would take some work, but Jane was fairly sure she could come up with a client or two for her friend.

Kaitlyn held up her prosthetic. “With this?” Her voice had a teary edge to it.

“Of course with that. What would that hurt?”

“The chemicals, the lifting. I don’t know. I just don’t think it would work.” A thin silver bracelet with a diamond on the clasp slid back down her prosthetic wrist when she lowered her hand. The cuff of her crisp white button down had hidden it before.

“It’s hard work, but I think you are up for it.” Jane finally sipped her coffee. It was too hot still and burned the tip of her tongue. She rubbed her tongue across the back of her teeth.

“So far, you’ve only lost one shift a week. We will definitely keep you in our prayers, but I think we need to move on with our ministry plan.” Valerie nodded while she spoke, as though trying to get the team to agree with her.

Jane nodded, but kept silent. The little murder she was wrapped up in had taken over all of her free time. She had nothing new to offer her team.

“I think it is clear that the church is looking for missionaries who can take on a task and complete it, so the task we choose should be in proportion to both the time we have available to work and our giftings.” Valerie opened a burgundy suede folder. One side had a tablet and the other had a notepad covered in notes. She turned the tablet on and the Bible opened up.

“I think Paula is looking for innovative outreach.” Kaitlyn caught Jane’s eye as she spoke and nodded.

Jane scrunched her mouth.

“They want to see us try to touch the hearts of hard-to-reach places in our community. To really make an impact.” Kaitlyn turned to Valerie and tried the nodding thing again.

Valerie frowned, and looked over her small round glasses. “Paula said she wanted to train us to successfully lead and mentor a small group. They want to build up our basic skills before sending us away.”

Jane watched the coffee station over Valerie’s shoulder. She hoped the gray-haired barista who had had an eye on Val was here tonight.

“Jane? Your opinion, please?” Kaitlyn attempted the level-headed tone that Valerie used.

“I think they want to see if we can work together to achieve a goal.” Jane tilted her head. In fact, she was certain that’s what this was about. “If they wanted to see us lead small groups, or do some crazy new thing, they wouldn’t have put us all together.” Jane took another sip of her coffee. “In fact, I am positive the only point in all of this is teamwork.”

“You think that
who
is doing the job is more important to Paula than the job they are doing?” Kaitlyn’s cheeks flushed.

“Yes.” Valerie turned to a fresh page on her notepad. “I think Jane’s right.”

“The work is important, too…” Jane said. She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“That’s the problem with you, Jane.” Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes. “You see ‘good work’ as an end in itself. Valerie and I have very specific jobs already lined up.
Mission
work we know we are going to do.”

Jane set her cup down.

“Having a concrete goal really changes your perspective.” Kaitlyn rested both of her hands on the table, her good hand toying with her silver bracelet.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, please. I agree with Jane. This job is to show that we can work together—one of the specific skills that field missionaries asked the church to look for in candidates. Having a plan for our work in place doesn’t change that we have to learn how to work together.”

“I just don’t know why Jane is even on this team.” Kaitlyn looked down at the table.

Jane slumped. She didn’t know, either, but that didn’t mean she wanted Kaitlyn to say it.

“Jane is on this team because she is serious about missions.” Valerie kept her matter-of-fact tone.

Jane only hoped she could be as imperturbable in twenty years.

“Jane, why don’t you tell us what ideas you’ve come up with?”

Jane picked at her fingernail. Then she took a deep breath. “I… well…” She looked from face to face and couldn’t do it. She couldn’t talk about missions tonight. “Okay, this is the way it is. My boss was murdered. I found the body. The cops think I might have lied in my statement. I’ve been so wrapped up in this, I haven’t really given any thought to our project. But I am perfectly willing to work hard at whatever decision we make as a team.”

“Oh, child!” Valerie’s voice held all the warm tones of a mother. She reached across the table for Jane’s hand. “You poor thing. How can we help you?”

Jane let Valerie hold her hand. Tears sprung to her eyes. It was what her mom would have done and said, had she been in town, and exactly what Jane had been missing. She blinked the tears away. “I have to go back to the house where he died every morning to do some light cleaning. Tomorrow, I want to look around more, see if I can find any clues.”

“But haven’t the police already done that?” Kaitlyn’s voice was excited, but her face had a weird, hard look on it, as though she were trying to suppress some emotion.

“Yeah, they have. But I don’t know what else to do about it.”

“You all keep telling me to just pray for my crisis. You should just pray about this one.”

Jane looked hard at Kaitlyn. Was that envy in her voice? Because Jane’s crisis was worse?

Kaitlyn’s face was turning red. Her hand trembled. Her eyes sparkled.

No. Not envy. Kaitlyn was excited. She looked like she was trying to keep from smiling.

“I have definitely been praying, but I don’t have any concrete plan from God, or even a strong sense of peace.”

Kaitlyn leaned forward. She wasn’t sympathetic, though; she was almost certainly excited. “Are you scared to look for clues alone?”

“I am, a little.”

“Do you want someone there with you?”

Jane almost smiled. Kaitlyn was trying to get invited along. “I have to be there at
5:30
in the morning…”

“I can be there. Just tell me where.”

Valerie let go of Jane’s hand. “I think it is very admirable of you—”

“It’s not admirable. She’s my friend and she needs help.” The hint of Kaitlyn’s suppressed smile popped out in her dimples.

“Jane, have you had a chance to talk to Paula about all of this yet?” Valerie asked.

“She’s got so much on her heart right now, I didn’t want to bother her.”

Valerie took a deep breath. “I’m glad you finally told us, but this is a very serious situation. I think you need to tell Paula so that she can allow you a little grace in our project.”

“But I’m willing to work on it still.”

“I know you are.” Valerie tilted her head and smiled. “But you need freedom from this project until this trial has passed. Please don’t underestimate this. Murder is very serious.”

“But so is ministry. This thing, this murder is just a momentary trial, but the ministry we do can have an eternal impact on someone.” Jane’s heart was racing. She could tell she was being pushed out of the ministry team—out of the running for future funding. She didn’t want Caramel and
Douglas
to do this to her. It wasn’t fair.

“We can have eternal impact wherever we serve.” Valerie turned her cup around in her hands. “I have been waiting twenty years to go overseas, but I had eternal impact here at home while I waited.”

Kaitlyn waved her hand, brushing away Valerie’s words. “This is a crisis, Jane. You’ll still do ministry stuff. Right now, we have to clear your name. Get out your phone and text me the address, and I’ll be there tomorrow, bright and early.”

Jane looked at them both, Valerie with her motherly concerned face, Kaitlyn squirming like a toddler. What choice did she have, really? It’s not like she had been contributing to the project. “But what does it mean to the team?”

“Just explain your circumstances to Paula and let her tell you what it means to the team,” Valerie said softly.

Kaitlyn picked Jane’s purse up from the floor. “Get your phone out and text me the number. You need someone by your side right now.”

Jane pulled her phone out. Did she want Kaitlyn’s help? Would it be wrong to text the wrong address? She sent the correct address, but wondered if she would regret it.

“First thing tomorrow, Jane. I won’t let you down.”

“And please, go see Paula as soon as you can.”