Dirty Little Murder (7 page)

Jane couldn’t wallow in her disappointment too long
. She had a house waiting to be cleaned. Frida and Joe Walker were ER doctors who liked Jane to come by twice a month in the evening while they were at the hospital. She hadn’t been to their house since the tragedy at the Swansons’.

The
Walker
house was a three story Victorian near
Good
Sam
Hospital
in downtown
Portland
. It had been in the middle of renovations for over a year. Jane was fairly sure she could plaster her whole apartment with the construction dust she had vacuumed up in the short time she had been their cleaner.

While she swept the newest layer of white dust into the newly installed toe board vacuum under the sink in the kitchen (a rather cool contraption that Jane wished more houses had) her phone rang.

“Janey!”

It was Isaac. A tingle of pleasure swept her whole body. “Hey!”

“What’s with the new phone number? I went to call you, but no one answered your old number. So I checked the last time you called and it was a new number.”

Jane detected shades of Mr. Daniels—Isaac’s dad, the judge—in the interrogation.

“I dropped my old phone.” While she wanted to tell him all of the details of the phone-in-the-hot tub, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not after the way he acted when she called him last time.

“Bummer. So I was thinking about your troubles.”

Jane smiled. “Thank you.”

“I think you should step up and maybe take over the house cleaning for Paula. I know you’re pretty busy, but since school is out, you could take on another client, right?”

Jane put the broom back in the closet. She took the duster with the telescoping handle out of her cleaning caddy and clicked the pole out to its fullest extension and swept the corners of the dining room ceiling for cobwebs.

“Are you there? Did I lose you?” Isaac asked.

“No, I’m here. I offered to clean her house, but she declined.”

“Then you should make her some meals. Something she can freeze.”

Though Jane had offered the same thing herself, she wondered if ramen noodles froze well, since that was about all she could afford to feed herself. “She said no thanks for that too.”

“Maybe it would do her good if you went by just to sit and listen. After all her years overseas, that might mean the most to her.” Isaac’s phone crackled while he spoke, as though he were moving in and out of cell reception.

“I have done. I hope it helped, but what do I know?” Jane jabbed the corner with the duster, in an attempt to kill a fast little spider.

“Glad to hear it. How’s everything else going?”

“Fine. I haven’t heard from the police yet, so I guess they don’t need me for anything else.”

“The police? What happened?”

“I discovered a body, Isaac. Don’t you remember? Scene of the crime? Witness? Does this ring any bells for you?” Jane whacked the spider so hard that the plastic duster handle broke. The microfiber duster head fell to the floor with a dull thump. The little black spider scuttled away.

“Don’t bite my head off, please. I’m just trying to help.”

“Did you forget that I found a dead body floating in a hot tub?”

“Sorry.”

Jane let out a long, slow breath and waited for him to say something else.

He didn’t.

“The cops said they’d be getting in touch with me later, and they haven’t yet, so that’s kind of a relief. Maybe
Douglas
’s death was just an accident.”

“Why wouldn’t it have been?”

“I don’t know why. But grown men don’t drown in their hot tubs every day.” Jane tossed her broken duster in the cleaning caddy. She grabbed a rag and sprinkled a little lemon oil on it. She rubbed wide circles on the top of the cherry wood dining table.

“Did it look like a murder to you?”

Jane closed her eyes and pictured the scene. The room had been steamy, like the jets of the tub had been going recently. There had been damp towels on the floor, as though someone had been in and out of the water. Had Caramel taken a dip in the tub with her husband that morning? If so… had she left the body there for Jane to discover? Jane shuddered. “How should I know?”

“You were there. You know more than I do.”

Jane knelt down to oil the legs of the table.

“I’ll call back later. You don’t seem to be in the mood to talk right now.”

Jane chewed on her cheek. Isaac was the one in a weird mood, not her. “Fine.”

“Talk to you later, love.”

“Thanks.” Jane hung up before Isaac could say anything else.

After eliminating the dust of two weeks’ worth of construction and making every antique surface in the house shine, Jane went home and went to bed. She had an early cleaning scheduled for the Swanson house. She would have loved to talk it over with Isaac, but barring that, at least she could have a good night’s sleep beforehand.

The next morning, all was quiet at the Swanson house. Jane ran the Swiffer over the wood floors and wondered how Caramel was holding up. From the little she knew of the family, Caramel was a newer wife, like Paula, but not at all like Paula at the same time.

Jane Swiffered over to the big, brick fireplace. Caramel and
Douglas
’s wedding portrait hung above it, framed in glossy black. Caramel looked about the same, but that didn’t help date the picture much, considering the effectiveness of Botox.
Douglas
hadn’t aged much since the picture either. And from the crease between his eyes and the many smile lines, Jane guessed he wasn’t Botoxing.

She ran a finger across the mantle. After the construction dust of last night, this house felt spotless. And empty. She hadn’t made it upstairs to the bedrooms, or downstairs to the garage yet, but as far as she could tell, the house was unoccupied. She leaned on the handle of the lightweight dust mop. Had Caramel fled a murder charge or was she just out getting her roots done? Was she a cold-hearted killer or just a heartless widow? For some reason, Jane couldn’t picture Caramel as anything else.

Jane and her Swiffer moved on to the office. She started at the top of the room, and dusted her way down. The desk was a mess. Jane straightened the piles, keeping everything together and in the same spot. A stack of photos dominated the mess. She picked them up carefully, keeping her fingerprints off of their glossy fronts. She didn’t want to pry, but couldn’t help noticing that the pictures were all of
Douglas
. Perhaps something for the funeral. A thin blonde woman shared space in most of the photos. It didn’t look like Caramel.

Jane slid one out from the others and stared at it. Douglas and the lady were at the beach, the waves tossing behind them. From the palm trees in the distance, it was obviously not the
Oregon
coast.

The lady in the picture seemed younger than Caramel. She had a clear face and the small chest and thin lips of someone who had never been to a plastic surgeon.
Douglas
had his arm around the lady’s waist and was laughing, his eyes directed away from the person taking the picture. Jane squinted. The lady was wearing a bikini, and though she was no expert, Jane would guess it was not still in style. So… an old picture?

Jane scanned the rest of the photos from the stack. Almost all of them were Douglas and this lady, and they all seemed a little old. Jane set them down. It must be
Douglas
’s ex-wife. Perhaps Caramel was sorting through the old pictures for
Douglas
’s kids.

Jane dusted around and under the piles, and then cleaned the floor. Caramel might be more thoughtful than Jane had given her credit for, but she still wanted to get out of the house before Caramel showed up.

Jane finished the lower level and moved up to the bedrooms. She didn’t want to make a side business of cleaning up homes where someone had recently died, but she did seem to have a knack for it. Something about the loss made her want to work harder, leave the house better than normal.

When everything upstairs that could possibly be done was done, Jane made her way back down to the basement. The garage would need sweeping, the halls needed to be vacuumed. The hot tub room would need to be cleaned. As long as she was allowed to clean it, at any rate.

The basement was dark, but unbarred. There was no police tape or guards indicating she shouldn’t be down there.

She was disappointed.

The idea of seeing the hot tub made her stomach turn. But rather than put it off, she went there first. She flipped on all of the lights and stormed right up to the tub. She hefted the lid off and looked down at it, facing her fears.

Empty.

No one was in the pool.

She took a deep breath, enjoying a brief moment of relief. Dusting, vacuuming, and shining all the mirrors she could… she could do that, But dipping her hand into the water to check the pH? She’d just have to make herself do it.

When the whole room had been dealt with, she cleaned her way back to the garage. Get in, get it clean, get out. That’s all she needed to do at the Swanson house. She’d dust, Swiffer, mop, vacuum, whatever, and then get the heck out of Dodge—and maybe, if she could work up her nerve, she’d make this day her last day at the Swanson house.

When the garage was as clean as an already-clean garage could get, Jane dumped her mop water in the utility sink. She turned the water on and rinsed out the head of the sponge mop. She had been the only person in the house the whole time she was cleaning, and yet, all three of the Swanson cars were parked in the garage. Perhaps Caramel had gone out with a friend? Not that it mattered, Jane reminded herself.

“When you are done with that, I want to see you in the kitchen.”

Jane jumped and dropped the sponge. She turned, the water still running behind her.

Caramel stood in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, but her clothes were as bright and tight as any other time Jane had seen her.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jane mentally kicked herself for mopping the spotless floor. If she had skipped that step she could have been long gone by now. She turned off the faucet, wiped down the water that had splashed when she dropped the mop head, and wished she could think of one more really big, really long job to do before she went up to the kitchen, but she couldn’t so she followed Caramel upstairs, determined to get it over with (whatever it was).

“You are probably aware that the death of
Douglas
was a complete surprise to me, and to all of us.” Caramel bit her lip and looked up, to the left. The doe-eyed thing didn’t work for her.

“Of course, it was clearly a tragic accident of some sort.”

Caramel parted her lips and exhaled slowly. “Do you think so?”

“I-I couldn’t really say. But it seems like it must have been some kind of surprise or accident.”

“That is how it would seem, isn’t it?” Caramel opened the pantry door. “With the ongoing investigation into his death and the arrangements for his funeral and getting his estate in order, I’m completely overwhelmed.” Caramel affected a sad face again. “I could use someone to come in each morning and set us up for the day.” She waved to a shelf full of coffee bags. “Would you be able to do that until our maid returns from vacation?”

“What kind of time commitment are you talking about?”

“Every morning, seven days a week—it shouldn’t take more than an hour. I won’t always be here, but I don’t want the house to look vacant. I just need someone to come in and start the place up.” A look of confusion crossed Caramel’s face. She shut the pantry door.

“Do you mean like turning lights on, watering plants, making coffee, that kind of thing?”

“Yes, yes, that kind of thing. I can make a list for you.”

Jane saw her freedom slip out of her fingers “It would have to be pretty early. I have other clients in the morning.”

“So long as you’re quiet, that’s not a problem.”

“And this is at my regular hourly rate.”

“Fine. Just be here tomorrow.”

Jane put out her hand to shake on it, but Caramel walked out of the room instead, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor.