Dirty Little Murder (22 page)

The next morning
, Jane served Gemma and Stephanie steaming cups of cappuccino, crisp, buttery English muffins, and yogurt.

“This is nice. Early, but nice.” Gemma rubbed her eyes.

Jane tried not to stare at Stephanie. Somewhere in the middle of rejoicing over her newly not-engaged-but-basically-engaged status, she had realized where she had seen the eyes of the mystery blonde before.

Stephanie.

Stephanie wore black hipster glasses, but that didn’t hide the pale blue, pop eyes that were behind them.

Jane had theorized the night before that Stephanie made liberal use of mascara, and/or fake lashes, and that was what had kept Jane from pinning the resemblance down immediately. She was using an early breakfast to try and catch her guest make-up free.

It worked.

If Stephanie was the key to the murder, she was a cool operator. From her natural relationship with Gemma, to her excitement over the stolen jewels, she seemed legitimate.

Jane needed to get under her skin, to up-end her complacency. From the phone to the letters, to the missing hamper, Jane knew she was being set up, and who better to do it than the girl sleeping in her bed? Her instinct was crying out to drag Stephanie to the Swansons’ to see if Stephanie would crack under the pressure.

Gemma chuckled at something Stephanie had muttered under her breath. Jane chewed on the inside of her cheek. Gemma and Stephanie appeared to have a real friendship.

She could be wrong about Stephanie. Fortunately, nothing she had planned for the day would hurt Stephanie—if she was who she said she was.

Jane took a sip of her coffee. Then she looked at her watch. Then she coughed lightly, and fingered her stitches. As soon as Stephanie and Gemma looked up she smiled conspiratorially. “So… Caramel has not told me to stop coming in in the mornings to open the house.”

“Jane… what are you thinking? She tried to run you over.” Gemma took a big crunchy bite of her English muffin.

“I’m thinking she’s cracked, and if I go now, I might be able to find some crucial evidence to connect her to the murder.” Jane sipped her coffee again. She made a discreet glance in Stephanie’s direction. Stephanie appeared preoccupied with her phone.

“Breaking news on the Swanson case,” Stephanie said, looking up for a second.

Jane leaned forward to see the screen. “Really?”

Stephanie held the phone out, but the screen was small. Jane thought she recognized the logo of the local paper, but couldn’t read the text from across the table.

“Have they made an arrest?” Gemma asked.

“They announced the funeral.”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “That’s breaking news?”

“I’d say so. They wouldn’t release the body for the funeral if there was still a suspect, right?” Stephanie shook her head while she spoke, a little quirk that made Jane doubt her words.

“That hasn’t been my experience.” Jane dusted the crumbs off of her hands. “So, can I ask you guys to join me at the Swansons’ today? I just don’t want to go alone.” Jane widened her eyes, hoping it made her look vulnerable.

“Of course.” Gemma smiled. “I don’t know how much help we’ll be, but if nothing else we can sit in the car, and you can call us in if you get scared.”

“We could be the getaway drivers.” Stephanie’s face was shiny. Was she sweating?

“Oh no, I really can’t go in the house alone. Couldn’t you come with me? Since you want to take on some houses, I could say I was training you.”

“And I can stick in the car and be the getaway driver. I’ll wear my dark glasses and a wig, or at least a hat.” Stephanie giggled a little.

“Honest, I’d be scared to leave you out there. Just come in with us, and we probably won’t have to explain anything.” Jane leaned forward and whispered, “What I really want to do is goad Caramel into saying something. I’ll be so much more confident with you all in the house.”

Gemma set down her cup. “I’m in. I know I owe you for all the times you spot the rent. And Steph, you owe her for that comfy bed. Let’s get dressed and get this over with.”

“Thank you soo much.” Jane picked up her coffee cup and smiled.

Stephanie stretched, and popped her back. She chewed her lip, and looked over her shoulder. Jane marked each tiny movement. Were they evidence of her chronic pain issues or evidence that she was nervous about going to the Swansons’? Right now, it was anyone’s guess.

A text came through from Isaac while the girls were getting dressed. “Just hi.”

“Off to catch a killer.” Jane read her note and then went to delete it, but hit send instead.

“WHAT!”

“Today’s the day. I have a hunch. Pray!”

“Si!”

“& I love you.” She bit her lip.

“I am PRAYING you don’t get killed, because I love you!”

“I won’t.” She worked her jaw back and forth. She wasn’t likely to get killed in a house full of people… was she?

Stephanie came back out, dressed in sweats, sneakers, and big, dark sunglasses.

Jane shoved her phone in her pocket. She forced a smile.

The drive to the Swansons’ was tense. Jane was on her third cup of coffee, and her hands were shaking.

“Can you drive through Bean Me Up Scotty’s really fast?” Stephanie pointed toward the coffee shop up the street.

“We can drink the Swanson’s coffee. They don’t mind.” Jane merged to the left, keeping her distance from the coffee shop.

“My blood sugar is a little low…” Stephanie leaned her head against the window.

Gemma threw her a granola bar from the back seat. “Perk up. Jane needs us!” Gemma sat on the edge of her seat, straining the seatbelt. “What’s the game plan?”

Jane picked up her travel mug, but her hand was shaking so badly, she set it back down. “I need to play it by ear, sorry!” From the corner of her eye, Jane thought she saw Stephanie shiver.

At the house, Jane established Gemma and Stephanie in the kitchen. As a cover, she pulled a housecleaning blog up on her phone. Were a member of the household to enter the room, the two women were to appear to be reading the tips of the trade and could say they were there to be trained.

Jane went through the motions. She made coffee, opened the curtains, and went to the office to turn on the equipment. The room had changed again. This time, piles of books had been added to it, perhaps from
Douglas
’s work office, wherever that might be. Jane whipped a rag out of her apron pocket and dusted the top of the nearest pile. Perhaps something stuck discretely into a book from his work office would reveal what she needed to know.

She knelt on the thick carpet and dusted the spines of the books, checking for any loose papers that might have been slipped between the covers.

The first stack was barren, but the second stack looked like it had some promise. The bottom of the stack was a leather-bound, three-ring binder, stuffed to overflowing.

“Whoops!” Jane knocked the stack down and looked over her shoulder.

She ignored the fallen books for a moment and opened the binder. The top pages were some kind of outline. Jane didn’t read it, but scanned it and the other pages for handwritten notes, phone numbers, anything. Then she dug through the pockets pulling out every scrap that had been tucked inside. Most were just scribbles, but some had dates and names. Jane turned back to the first page of the outline and began comparing. If she had to guess, she’d say
Douglas
had been working on his autobiography.

“Excuse me?”

Jane flushed. “I knocked this stack of books over.” Jane slid the pieces of paper into the pockets.

“And I watched you open that book up and read it. What are you doing?” Amy stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m just putting it away.” Jane shut the book and stood up.

“What are you doing here?”

“Opening the house… I mean, I know it was rough last time I was here, but I really need my job.” Jane heard something fall in the kitchen. She frowned. Now was not a good time for her friends to draw attention to themselves.

“I think you need to leave.” Amy scowled. She had dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t been sleeping well, and her thick red hair was pulled back in a scraggly bun.

“Do you think I can have my last paycheck first?” Jane pulled out the first reason she could think of to stay.

“You tried to have Caramel arrested.” Amy held her position in the middle of the doorway.

“I really didn’t. I was just scared.” Jane let her hand drift to her face again, lightly touching her wound. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

Amy cleared her throat. “Listen, I don’t not like you. But it was foolish to come here. Especially if you are just poking around in my family’s business. If you leave now, I won’t mention you were here.” Amy took a step back into the hallway. “And I’ll make sure you get paid. Okay?”

Jane shook her head. “I feel like I ought to at least finish the job.” She bent down and picked up the notebook.

Amy flew forward and grabbed the book. “Let me have that.” She pressed it to her chest and took a deep breath. “Go ahead and finish today’s work. Just… make this the last day.” She started down the hall, then stopped, and turned around. “Sorry about that.”

“I understand.” Jane straightened the rest of the books, mostly encyclopedias and biographies.

Jane turned on the computer, the whirring buzz as it came to life was drowned out by another crash from the kitchen. Jane ran for the door, but tripped over the stack of books. She scrambled back up and threw herself into the kitchen in time to see the back door swinging and a coffee mug in pieces on the floor. She could hear voices screaming.

She paused for a second and considered calling for help, but ran instead. She could see Gemma and Amy down the field a stretch, but where was Stephanie?

Gemma and Amy swung hard left, so Jane did, too, hoping to cut diagonal and catch up with the girls, who were only a couple of hundred feet ahead of her.

As soon as she was close enough she reached for Gemma’s elbow.

A bang like a gun sounded and Gemma fell to the ground, her hands over her head.

Jane dropped, too. She threw herself on her cousin, as though she could protect her from what had just happened.

Jane felt Gemma’s head for blood, daring to hope that she wouldn’t find any. If Gemma died from this stunt…

Jane’s heart stopped.

Her fingers had found a warm, wet spot on Gemma’s temple. She held Gemma’s head in her arms, desperate to keep it together.

“Get off of me!”

“But your head.” Jane tried to keep her cousin pinned to the ground.

Gemma squirmed and shoved Jane to the side. “We’ve got to find her.” She scrambled up and ran again.

Jane stared at her fingers, which were wet and warm and brown. She sniffed them. Dog doo. Wet, fresh, dog doo.

Jane wiped her hand on the grass and took a deep breath. She had to calm down. After all, she had no idea what was happening.

Jane shoved her hand in the pocket of her jeans, but her phone was still in the kitchen. Her heart was like a hammer in her chest, beating so hard it hurt.

Another reverberating bang broke the silence of the morning.

Then a scream.

Jane got up and ran. She ran until her lungs burned. She ran until she passed Gemma. She ran into the woods, through the brambles that scratched lines of fire in her arms. She ran straight to the next-door neighbor’s property line.

Jane stopped at the edge of the woods
and hid behind a large rhododendron. She knew Amy and Stephanie were just the other side of the bush, but her heart was beating so loudly she couldn’t hear a sound. She took a slow deep breath. She couldn’t burst onto the scene if there was a gun out there. She wanted to stop the violence, not die.

She gripped a thin branch and pulled it down so she could see. Stephanie was crouched behind a blue plastic canister.

Jane looked from side to side until she found Amy crouched behind a concrete urn full of roses. Amy’s face was scared, but she didn’t look like she was in pain. Jane turned her eyes back to Stephanie. Who had the gun? Her or Amy?

Stephanie narrowed her eyes, her thick lips pinched.

There was a whirr, then a piff.

A yellow ball shot out of the plastic tennis ball machine and hit the wall of the aluminum shed behind Amy with a noise so loud it made Jane’s skull vibrate.

Amy rolled away from the planter and took shelter behind the shed. Then she poked her head out. “Stop it, Stephanie!”

Another ball rolled out and rammed into the shed.

Jane counted four dents, one for each “shot” she thought she had heard.

Stephanie wasn’t talking.

Jane inched her way around the bush. If she could get Stephanie away from the machine, she could turn it off.

Jane heard Gemma behind her, panting. Jane turned, a finger to her lips, but she wasn’t fast enough. Gemma burst through the bushes. “Stephanie! What’s the matter?” she cried out.

Stephanie spun her machine. A ball flew out and hit Gemma in the shoulder. “Ouch!” Gemma fell to the ground. “What did you do that for?”

Jane picked her way through the edge of the woods until she was sure she could come out of them without Stephanie seeing her.

“My mother did not kill that man!” Stephanie spit the words out.

“Jeeze, Steph! No one said she did.” Amy shouted from behind the shed.

Stephanie spun the machine again. This time the ball came out while she was turning. It flew through the window of the pool house with a great crash. A scream came from inside.

Jane froze. Who was in the pool house?

“Why would your mom kill someone?” Gemma stayed low, one hand holding her shoulder.

“She wouldn’t.” Stephanie pushed the machine closer to the shed.

“No one thinks your mom killed my dad.” Amy poked her head from behind the shed again.

“Then why are the police looking for her? What did she ever do? She loved him, that’s all!”

Amy let a long breath out through pursed lips.

Jane stepped onto the lawn, hoping Gemma wouldn’t notice her.

“What are you afraid of, Steph?” Amy pulled her head back behind the shed before Stephanie could answer.

“I’m afraid that the police will be prejudiced against her because she loved him. It’s always the lover, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter that they had been together for over twenty years. And it doesn’t seem to matter he married a crazy lady. It will still look like my mom’s fault, but it wasn’t.”

Gemma made eye contact with Jane. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but Jane shook her head. If Gemma revealed her…she flinched just thinking about what the tennis balls, shooting in close range, at one hundred and thirty miles an hour, could do to her cousin, to Amy, or to herself.

“No one thinks your mom did anything wrong, sweetie.” Amy popped out from behind the shed again, but on her hands and knees so she’d be lower than the tennis balls. “We do want to find her and let her know what happened, but no one blames her.”

Not so, Jane thought. If Stephanie’s mom was
Douglas
’s lover, the lover with the missing phone, then Jane thought there was a good chance she was the murderer.

“Well, she didn’t do it. She’s been in Cabo for a month. He was with her for most of it.”

“She’s
still
seeing him?” Amy crawled on her hands and knees to Gemma.

“Of course! Why would they break up when things have been going so well?”

“Because he’s
married
to Caramel! You can’t think it’s okay for married men to have lovers.”

Stephanie’s jaw worked back and forth. Jane thought she must have turned the ball machine off, since it hadn’t shot anything in a few minutes.

“Why not? She’s always been his lover. She’s been with him longer than either of his wives.”

“But don’t you want more for your mom?” Amy gently manipulated Gemma’s shoulder. Gemma bit her lip and shook her head.

“It’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it?” Stephanie pushed on something on the back of her machine. Maybe it wasn’t turned off, but out of balls.

Jane got around the other side of the pool house.

Stephanie had been staying with Jane, so she wasn’t the one living in the pool house, but she had run straight there in a panic. Maybe her mom was the guest next door.

Jane tested the door knob.

The door opened.

Jane stepped inside, trying to be quiet, but the blonde woman crouched under the broken window turned and looked at her. She had big, buggy blue eyes like Stephanie.

“I didn’t do it, I swear.” She pressed her back to the wall.

“Of course not.” Jane dropped to a sitting position on the floor. The woman in front of her quivered, and her face was streaked with tears. “I don’t know why Stephanie thinks I did. When she called me and told me what had happened, it broke me. It just broke me. Doug and I had come back from
Mexico
early, and I had just seen him. I couldn’t believe what she was telling me…” She broke off, a sob choking out her words.

“Danae?” The woman looked up. “Are you Danae Monroe, the maid?”

She nodded, still sobbing great shoulder-racking sobs.

“Stephanie is just really, really scared. She needs you.” Jane kept her distance and kept her words soft and warm.

Danae nodded her head.

“Just push open the door and step out. You can help her calm down.”

Danae’s body slowly stilled.

“Your baby needs you to be strong.”

Danae opened the door and stepped out.

Jane crossed the room, but stayed in the little house with the wall between herself and Stephanie.

“Baby girl, what are you doing?”

“Don’t come out, Mom!” Stephanie didn’t turn. “Don’t let them take you away.”

Danae turned to Jane, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

Jane mouthed, “Keep going.”

“I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. I’ve already seen the police. They know where I was. They don’t think it was me.” Danae placed her hand on Stephanie’s shoulder.

“But the news keeps making it sound like they think it was you…” Stephanie turned slowly to face her mom. “I’ve been so scared!”

“Is that why you haven’t come by to see me?”

Stephanie nodded. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Baby girl.” Danae wrapped her arms around Stephanie.

Gemma and Amy rushed to the tennis ball machine and pulled it away. “Why did you bolt from the kitchen?” Gemma asked.

“I didn’t want Amy to see me with you.” She wiped her eyes. “She might tell Matthew.”

Danae chewed her bottom lip.

“Why shouldn’t I tell my brother that you came by here?”

Stephanie looked from Amy to Gemma and back to Amy.

Jane stepped out of the house, her pulse racing. “Stephanie, you planted that evidence on me, didn’t you?”

Stephanie looked at her feet.

“You only came to my house to make me look like the killer.” A strange peace fell over Jane as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She wasn’t angry, or scared. She was in charge, and she was about to find all of the answers she had been looking for.

“No! I…”

“Stephanie, where is the laundry basket? Where are the towels?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t there! I never saw those!” Stephanie’s face drained of color. Her body shook. “I didn’t want you to get arrested, Jane. I just wanted…” Her mouth hung open like a fish. Then she took a deep breath and straightened up. “My mom called. She told me that she had stopped by the house and seen Amy and Caramel. She mentioned some errands she had to do. I just went to the shop and said I was her. Joe wasn’t in; the other guy let me pick it up. It was easy. Then I had it… and I could use it if I needed to. But, Jane… not to hurt you. Just to protect my mom.”

“Oh, Stephanie…” Danae shook her head. “What did you think would happen to this poor girl?”

Stephanie’s face flushed, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She ground her teeth together, a look of fierce determination fighting against the tears.

“But, Danae, if you weren’t with
Douglas
that morning, and Caramel was out back on the property, who was in the tub with
Douglas
when he died?” Jane drummed her fingers on the wall. “Did he have a new girlfriend, Amy? What do you know?”

She shook her head. “I would swear that he doesn’t.” She paused. “Didn’t. He was an old dog, and slowing down.”

“Stephanie, do you want to come in and sit down?” Jane asked in slow, low tones, hoping to soothe Stephanie into telling them more. Her next question was about Matthew Swanson, but she didn’t want to rush it. An idea had formed in her mind, so revolting that her stomach turned, but she was almost certain she had the key to the murder; maybe not the murderer, but definitely the motive.

“Yes, please.”

Danae led her daughter into the pool house. “You’re lucky
Marion
is letting me stay here still,” she said. “I get to move back into the apartment next week.”

“You popped into the big house to look for your phone, didn’t you?”

Danae nodded. “Yes, once or twice.”

“Amy, she was there the day that Alexandra and Matthew came over, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, of course she was. But I certainly couldn’t have my mother find out she was there.”

Stephanie sat on the edge of the wicker sofa, her hands gripping the edge of the cushion.

“Would you have been embarrassed for Matthew to find you at the house?” Jane asked, still trying to lull Stephanie with a calm, low voice. Her whole body was tense with excitement, but if she could keep her voice calm, she could make it work.

“What would Matthew care about the housekeeper’s kid?” Amy asked, her lip curled in distaste.

Danae rubbed Stephanie’s back, but her face was awash with emotion, though she kept her mouth closed in a firm line.

“You didn’t have a crush on him, did you?” Amy’s face was clearly disgusted. “He’s so old.”

Danae stood up. “The important thing is we have all calmed down. If you all don’t mind, could you just leave us alone? I’ll clear everything up.” She looked from Amy to Gemma to Jane, her eyes wild.

Jane was sure now, she was completely sure. “Danae, is Douglas Stephanie’s father?”

“No!” Stephanie stood up, shaking. “My dad was a Marine! He died in
Bosnia
!”

Danae buried her face in her hands.

Amy closed her eyes, and rolled her head. “That’s just brilliant. No wonder he hired you to work here after you had the baby.”

“My
dad
is a war hero!” Stephanie spun, her eyes not stopping on any of them. “
Douglas
couldn’t be my dad. Mom was married to a war hero!”

“My husband was gone a long time before he died.” Danae’s voice was a whisper.

“But
Douglas
took good care of you and the baby, didn’t he?” Jane tried to match Danae’s quiet tone.

“He always took very good care of us.”

“
Douglas
is
not
my father.” Stephanie’s voice quivered with the sounds of doubt.

“You have a crush on your brother?” Amy’s voice, while derisive and sarcastic, had just a hint of fear. Her own face had drained of all color, only her freckles standing out against her snow white skin.