Dirty Little Murder (3 page)

Kaitlyn jumped up, and put an arm around Paula’s back. She pulled out a chair. “You need to sit.”

Paula collapsed into the seat.

“What happened? How we can help?” Kaitlyn knelt down beside Paula so they were at about eye level.

“It’s Marcus.” Paula covered her face with both hands. “They found him… He was on his way home.” She shook her head.

Jane reached across the table for Paula’s hand. “What happened?”

“They said it was a hit and run.” She took a deep, ragged breath.

“Paula, what do you need us to do for you?” Kaitlyn asked, her young voice business-like.

“He’s at the hospital.
Providence
.”

For a moment, Jane’s heart lightened. Marcus would be okay.

“They need me to come identify his body.” Paula crumpled forward, laying her head on the table, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

Kaitlyn stayed next to her, the prosthetic hand resting on Paula’s shoulder, while she stroked the pastor’s hair with her good hand. “When you are ready to go, we can take you there.”

Jane and Valerie nodded in mute agreement.

A small voice at the back of Jane’s head whispered,
at least it wasn’t murder
.

Kaitlyn drove Paula to the hospital
, and Valerie followed with the Ehlers’ car. Jane had stood on the periphery, watching their careful handling of the mission coordinator, whom they had known for years and loved. Jane wanted to step in and help, too, but Kaitlyn had already thought of everything.

Jane had hugged the grieving woman and both of her new teammates. She would pray for Paula, but until some new task needed doing, she would attempt to get a handle on the issue of the missing diamond ring.

First thing she did when she got back to her own, small, crowded apartment, was call Holly.

“Listen,” she said, after exchanging greetings, “I desperately need you tomorrow at the Swanson house.”

“I’m free. What’s up?” Holly said.

Jane explained the trouble with the ring.

“She really thinks you found it in the drain and stole it?”

“I can’t know what she really thinks, but that is basically what she said. If I had enough money, I’d hire a plumber to come out, and I’d stand back and let him do the work.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Like I said, I don’t have the money.”

“You can bill her, can’t you? It’s not like you all agreed up front what tomorrow would cost.”

Jane toyed with the idea before answering. It struck her as less then aboveboard. “There could be trouble if she decided not to pay, that’s all. The last thing I need is for a plumber to take me to court for an unpaid bill.” Jane scratched “call Holly” off her to do list.

“Oh well. You can count on me. Seven in the morning?”

“Yup, bright and early.” Jane looked out the window. The sun hovered on the horizon, the long, slow summer sunset clinging to the edge of the Earth.

“Bet you wish Isaac was home.”

“You bet I do.” Calling Isaac was next on her list. Every time she pictured him in his jungle seminary her heart skipped a beat.

“Then I’ll say goodbye so you can get hold of him. You know he’ll have some great way to get you out of this unscathed.”

“Bye, Holly, and thanks.” Jane hung up. Holly had been a good find. She had come on the recommendation of Isaac’s mom as well, but unlike Caramel Swanson, Jane was glad to have connected with Holly.

Jane started with a text, because phone reception was so patchy at Isaac’s school. But before she knew it, she had added the tale of Marcus Ehlers’ death to the message. Not only would the message be a pain to read, and ridiculously expensive, it was a terrible way to find out someone had died. Jane erased it, and dialed Isaac’s number to call him.

The phone rang, and rang, but no one answered.

She turned it off.

The lesson, if she was forced to find one, was that in times of crisis like this, she was supposed to turn to God, and not her boyfriend. She curled up on her couch with a glass of ice water. You couldn’t pray too much over a crisis, even if you were out of new things to say.

The next morning was bright and warm. A great day to spend on the lake, relaxing. Instead, Jane met Holly at the Swanson house. Holly wore her “Plain Jane’s Good Clean Houses” t-shirt, and a determined grimace.

“Don’t worry, Holly. Her bark has to be worse than her bite.” After her long evening of prayer and meditation, the situation with the missing wedding ring had been put in its proper perspective. Caramel was being unreasonable and unrealistic. Showing up this morning to help look for the ring would prove her innocence. After giving the hunt the old college try, everyone could move on. Jane fully expected to be fired as replacement housekeeper, and that was fine, too.

Holly tried to smile.

“I mean it. This is no big deal.” Jane rang the doorbell and waited.

Before the door was answered, a white panel wagon with “Trusty Plumbers” painted on the side drove up.

“This is great news!” Jane gave Holly a big grin. “Now all we will have to do is go fishing in drain gunk. The professionals can take them apart and put them back together.”

The plumber joined them on the front step with his tool box. He wore faded but clean overalls and looked about Jane’s dad’s age.

“You the little lady who lost the ring?” he asked.

“I am the housekeeper, Jane.” Jane pinned her smile in place, but wondered what story Caramel had told the plumbers.

An older, white-haired man in crisp slacks and a golf shirt answered the door. “Come in, come in.” He waved them into the house. “Caramel isn’t down yet.”

Douglas
wasn’t expected back yet, according to Caramel, so who was this guy?

The plumber set his tool box down on the marble floor. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Caramel said to start in the mud room. Follow me.” The man padded down the hall in his sock feet. He opened the door to a bright, airy mud room with a large, deep, utility sink in the corner. “Go ahead and rip into that one first. I’d like to talk to the ladies.” He winked at Jane.

It had to be Mr. Swanson.

He led Jane and Holly into the kitchen.

“Mr. Swanson, I just want to let you know that I didn’t see the ring yesterday. I tore the sink completely apart, and it just wasn’t there.”

“Call me Douglas.”
Douglas
leaned against the wall, propped up on his elbow. His feet were crossed at the ankle. He looked Holly up and down like a new car, then turned his gaze to Jane. “Your friend there is sure a young one.”

Jane frowned. “Holly is my employee, and she is young, just seventeen.” She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. She was beginning to understand the reason behind Caramel’s distrust of her husband.

Douglas
sized up Jane, his eyes lingering just above her crossed arms. “How long have you been in business, darlin’?”

Jane caught Holly’s eye. Holly was wide eyed and looked confused.

“I’ve been running Good Clean Houses for three years now.”

“You’ll never make me believe you are old enough for that!”
Douglas
let out a deep chuckle. “Have you had any coffee yet? Can I get you some? Maybe with a dash of
Hawaii
in it?” He gestured to a selection of bottles on the counter near a short refrigerator. Jane saw “
Kahlua
” on one of the labels.

“No thank you, Mr. Swanson.” Jane held her ground. With her whole heart, which was beating like a dub-step flash mob, she wished she could run to the mudroom with the plumber, but she could tell her reputation was at stake. One wrong move and she could be held responsible for the missing half-million-dollar ring. “What would Caramel like us to do today?”

“Caramel is… embarrassed.” The corners of his mouth hinted at a smirk. “Today she says she dropped ‘something’ but can’t be sure that it was her ring. Here, sit down, girls.” He waved to the bar stools at the kitchen island.

“She found the ring?” Jane didn’t move.

“Not yet. She’s not the brightest bulb in the box, to be frank. She called the plumber to find whatever it is she lost.”

“Then can we go?” Holly had inched her way to the kitchen door.

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you run along?”
Douglas
nodded in Holly’s direction without looking at her.

“Wait a sec.” Jane held Holly’s gaze until Holly nodded.

Douglas
moved closer to Jane. “We don’t need your friend, Jane.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Let her go so we can get to know each other a little better.”

Jane shook her head, speechless. She’d rather be accused of stealing a priceless diamond than spend one minute alone with this man. “I have another meeting to get to by eight. If you no longer need us, we’ll be leaving.”

“Are you sure about that?”
Douglas
’s voice was a low purr.

Holly was shaking in the doorway, and Jane was about to holler for help, the tension in the room was so thick, when the silence was broken by the sharp clacks of high heels on marble.

“I see you’ve met the help.” Caramel entered the room in a swish and swirl of satiny fabric, some kind of thin night gown wrapped around her. She planted a red kiss on
Douglas
’s cheek, and squeezed past Jane.

Caramel held up her hand, a huge diamond sparkling in the bright kitchen lights. “Well, you had a close call, didn’t you?” Caramel looked from her ring to Jane, and then over to
Douglas
. “Two close calls, I’d say.” Caramel poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’d rather you not come again when my husband is home.” She sipped her hot drink.

Holly nodded so hard her glasses slipped to the end of her nose.

“Did you find your ring, sugar?”
Douglas
sidled up to his wife. He pulled down the bottle of Kahlua and opened it up.

“I bought a new one, baby.” Caramel smiled like the Cheshire cat.

Douglas
set the bottle on the counter, his body bristling. “You what?” His words were ice cold.

“I went to Joe, sweetie. Joe takes care of me.”

Douglas
inhaled deeply through his nose. His face grew red, but he pulled a smile into place. “Joe is her brother.”

Jane had the feeling
Douglas
was reminding himself, rather than telling her and Holly.

Douglas
lifted Caramel’s hand and examined the new bauble. “It had better not be real.” He dropped her hand and stalked out of the room.

Caramel picked up the abandoned Kahlua bottle and splashed a little into her mug. “You all can leave now.”

“Of course.” Jane crossed to where Holly stood, very near their exit.

“It is real,” Caramel said, her dark black eyelashes at half-mast, as she stared at the girls.

Jane and Holly inched their way to the door.

“Of course,” Jane said with a quick nod.

“Joe wants the best for me, always.”

Holly and Jane turned and nearly ran out of the house.

Once inside her car, Jane stopped to catch her breath.

“I wouldn’t want to get stuck in an elevator with that man,” Holly said as she clipped her seat belt.

“Me neither.” Jane pulled out of the driveway, wondering what was behind Caramel’s story of the missing ring. Had the ring ever been missing? Had the whole thing been a ruse to get her to the house while Douglas, the philandering spouse was home? If so, was the missing ring a trap set for
Douglas
or for Jane?

Jane worried over it the whole drive home, yet again wishing that Isaac wasn’t all the way in
Costa Rica
when she needed him.

After finishing up her eight o’clock client’s home
, Jane met Kaitlyn at the food court of the mall.

Kaitlyn wore her Bubble-Bubble Tea uniform. Her shiny blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. Jane noted that she wasn’t totally fixated by Kaitlyn’s hand any longer, but a wave a guilt washed the feeling away. Obviously, she
was
still unnaturally fixated on it if she noticed how little she noticed it. Jane sipped her bubble tea, the tapioca “bubbles” rolling over her tongue. It was… different.

“Valerie had to work today, but she gave me permission to try and make a plan.”

“Great.” Jane took another sip. It made sense to turn to Valerie as group leader, since she was the oldest. It would be much easier following her lead than Kaitlyn’s.

Kaitlyn whipped a small notepad out of the front pocket of her Bubble-Bubble smock. “First off, I think we need to arrange meals.”

“Shouldn’t we decide who we are trying to serve first?” Jane stirred her drink with her straw. She didn’t want to attempt another drink.

“We have to serve Paula.” Kaitlyn frowned. “We need to put aside our personal goals right now and just help her.”

“Yes, of course.” Jane’s cheeks burned, as a wave of embarrassment rolled over her. She had been wanting to do something for Paula herself, but of course, Kaitlyn brought it up before she did.

“I think that Valerie, you, and I should arrange meals, help around the house, and also help with anything funeral related she might need.”

“I’d be happy to offer to clean for her.” Visions of the Crawford funeral rushed in. She could arrange a funeral and serve food, if push came to shove, but folding laundry and taking out the trash sounded simpler.

“Don’t worry about that. I ran over this morning and did some chores. She’s really holding up pretty well. She said I could come back later this week and do a deep clean before the funeral.”

“I could help. I’m a housecleaner.” She was aware that she was begging to do housework, which just seemed wrong. But why should Kaitlyn get to do it, when it was really her “thing”?

“Uh-huh. I know.” Kaitlyn tilted her head. “Do you feel like you would do a better job?”

Jane hated the combative feeling that welled up in her. What had Kaitlyn ever done wrong? Nothing. Until last night they had not exchanged more than hellos. Jane needed to relax. They were teammates, not adversaries. “No, I don’t think that. It’s just what I do, so it felt natural.” Jane kept her eyes steady on Kaitlyn’s nose, a trick she had learned in business school. Focused on the speaker without freaking them out.

“It might be a good idea to stretch yourself.” Kaitlyn’s smile was warm, and Jane begged herself to believe it wasn’t condescending.

Jane took a deep breath. “Would you like me to arrange meals?”

“You really don’t know anyone at
Columbia River
yet, do you? I mean, it might be hard for you to do that.”

“It would be a stretch for sure.”

“Valerie has volunteered to arrange meals, which I think is super, because that’s a major priority, in my opinion.”

“So I can’t clean and I can’t arrange meals. What
do
you want me to do?” Jane straightened up. Her defensive reaction was in high gear, and her inner monologue wasn’t helping. She attempted to turn it into a prayer. She hoped that it had been her encounter with Douglas that had set her on edge, because the idea that she might be this defensive around Kaitlyn while they tried to plan a Bible study together was horrible.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Kaitlyn sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. She continued to smile.

Jane’s eyes drifted to the prosthetic hand. She couldn’t help feeling that Kaitlyn was used to being the center of everyone’s attention. A pretty blonde girl with a romantic injury. Jane hated that she jumped to the idea that Kaitlyn was self-centered, but this meeting wasn’t helping change her opinion.

“I could go visit Paula and ask her what she would find helpful.” Jane took a big drink of bubble tea. She stifled her gag reflex.

“You could do that.”

“It seems like a good idea.” Jane tried to guess what Kaitlyn was thinking.
Jane Adler is useless? Jane Adler doesn’t have a creative bone in her body? Bubble Tea is super yummy?
The last one was unfair. She had no reason to believe Kaitlyn was thinking vapid thoughts.

“Are you free to go over there tonight?” Kaitlyn appeared to be looking over Jane’s shoulder. It was all Jane could do to not turn and look behind her.

“Yeah, I am. I could call Paula and see if it is good for her.”

“Uh-huh.” Kaitlyn’s over-the-shoulder gaze suddenly focused. “Hey!” She stood and careened around the table.

Jane swung in her seat.

Kaitlyn had a chubby boy, about twelve years old, by the collar of his shirt. “Look at me!” Her voice was calm, but forceful. “Don’t ever let me see you treating someone like that ever again, do you hear?”

The boy was shaking, but he spit, missing Kaitlyn and hitting the ground. “You’re not my mom, you gimp.” His voice shook, too, despite his big words.

A younger boy with a black eye scooted away from the scene.

Jane stood up, but hesitated. Would Kaitlyn get in trouble if she ran for a security guard?

“You don’t mean that.” Kaitlyn’s voice went lower. “Those are the words of a scared kid.” She dropped his collar, but stood, arms crossed, in front of him, blocking his access to the younger boy. “You bully because you are scared, but you have to stop. Two wrongs make the world an awful place.”

The bully’s face flushed. “I’m not scared of you.” His eye was trained on Kaitlyn’s hand.

Jane felt sick to her stomach. She was no better than a prepubescent little boy, focusing on Kaitlyn’s difference. She joined Kaitlyn. “Would you like me to get security?”

“Nah.” Kaitlyn pulled a bright blue tract from her pocket. The cover said, “Where is God When You are Scared?” “Take this, sit down and read it, and I won’t call security.”

The boy grabbed the tract. He looked around the food court, only a couple of the dozen or so shoppers had looked their direction. The boy sat down. “Terrorizing someone weaker than you won’t make you stronger.”

Kaitlyn caught the boy’s eye. He shrugged and scowled.

Kaitlyn led Jane back to their table. “I hate bullies,” she said. “It’s tempting to knock them upside the head with my bionic hand. It is pretty heavy.” She held her hand up and smiled. “But two wrongs really do just make the world a rotten place, you know?”

“Do you know that kid?” Jane’s smile stretched from cheek to cheek. Bionic hand. She had a feeling that “breaking the ice” about the hand thing was something Kaitlyn had to constantly do.

“Nah. But I see a lot of little boys trying to be big here. You’d be amazed at how little these big kids really are on the inside.”

Jane turned her paper cup of bubble tea around in a circle, an idea brewing. “They’re a pretty needy bunch, hey?”

“You got that right.”

“A pretty needy
mission field
?” Jane asked.

“Ooh, I think I like what you are thinking.” Kaitlyn’s eyes sparkled. It was pretty clear the kids who loitered around the mall causing trouble had been on her heart for a while.

“Let’s get Paula squared away and then we can meet with Valerie again. If we do want to reach out to these kids, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

“True that. Preadolescent bullies at the mall are a very specific target, and not at all an easy one to reach out to.”

Kaitlyn and Jane exchanged a grin. “All the more reason to try,” Jane said.

Kaitlyn checked her watch. “Break over. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Jane gathered her backpack and jacket. It was a pity that Kaitlyn had such pretty hair and freckles across her nose. Cuteness made people—made Jane—make unfair assumptions.

Jane popped into the mall library and found a comfy chair. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Isaac. Just a “miss you” message. When he had a chance to call her she’d fill in the details.

She stared at the phone willing Isaac to reply to her message, but nothing happened. After her return from exile in
Phoenix
was over, the summer after she graduated from
Bible
School
, she and Isaac had been inseparable. This
Costa Rica
teaching gig was their first real trial as an official couple. Jane loved that he was there, in theory. Everyday she expected to hear him say that he had changed his mind and wanted to be a missionary. The strain of waiting for that was getting to her.

No text from Isaac came through, so Jane called Paula.

Paula invited her over immediately. They sat together in Paula’s kitchen with steaming cups of tea. The sink was full of coffee mugs, and there was a pan on the stove. There was a smattering of crumbs on the counter by the toaster. Jane tried not to notice, but it was hard. Paula looked as undone as her kitchen. She had deep shadows under her eyes, and her hair hung limply around her face.

“It was very kind of you to call, Jane.” Even Paula’s voice sounded defeated.

“Can I do anything to help? Anything at all?” Jane felt awkward, like her elbows went too far out and she was going to knock over the mantle decorations even though they were all the way across the room. She tried to take a deep breath without being noticed. It didn’t work.

“I spent many years overseas before I was married.” Paula’s eyes lost their absent look. “And one of the things I learned was important to people in the third world is the ability to be together with someone in their grief.” Her voice choked on the last word. Her eyes were mournful, but they held Jane’s gaze. “It would be good for you to sit here with me.”

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She needed to just sit quietly, so she nodded instead. She tried to smile, but it felt wrong. She let her smile morph into a sympathetic frown, but that felt condescending.

Paula made the same sympathetic frowning face—or at least, she successfully made the face Jane was trying for.

“I’ve known many young widows.” Paula’s voice had a thoughtful, far-away quality. “In some countries they wouldn’t consider me a young widow, but Mark and I had barely been married two years.” Her voice cracked. “So our marriage was young, even if I wasn’t.” Paula sniffled into her sleeve.

Jane jumped up. “Let me get you a tissue.”

“No, sit down.” Paula waved her hand. She dabbed under her eyes. “Sometimes sitting quietly will speak to people from other cultures about the peace of Christ.”

Jane sat down.

“We can be peacemakers in the world, Jane. It’s one of the beautiful jobs of the Church.”

Jane wrapped the cuff of her sleeve around her fingers. “It sounds like a powerful experience.”

“You’re uncomfortable. I know.” Paula’s eyes were filled with tears, but she offered a comforting smile. “You don’t have to stay.”

“No, I want to.” Jane’s voice shook. She wanted to “help,” whatever that would look like. She squeezed her fingers together. Quiet wasn’t the problem, really. She could clean an empty house all by herself in the quiet. She could even deliver the silent treatment to people who were bothering her. But the sympathetic quiet… no. As far as she could tell, she was wired to work. She tapped her foot on the rung of her chair. Her whole body felt coiled to leap into the kitchen and attack the little pile of dishes.

Tears had spilled from Paula’s brown eyes. She wiped them away. “Thank you.” Her eyes turned to the picture above the mantle again.

It looked like a huge family picture, but the family was clearly not American.

“Why don’t you come back tomorrow? I’ll be home all day, so you can just come whenever you are free.” Paula stood up. “I think I might be the one not ready to sit quietly together.”

Jane tried for the sympathetic smile one more time, and it finally felt natural. “I will, Paula. I promise.” She gave Paula a side hug and tried not to look like she was running out of the house.

The thing was, she was sure she could do this overseas. It was weird to sit quietly in
America
. In
Kyrgyzstan
or
India
it would feel perfectly normal. She was sure it would.