Killer Honeymoon (2 page)

Jane pushed open the door to the old Crawford
family vacation house. A blast of cold, dusty air hit her full in the face. She
sneezed and then laughed. “The life of ease.”

Jake flipped on the light and tugged their
suitcases in. “Smells like the beach.”

Jane had to agree. Her own parents’ little house
at the coast had always had the same salty, dusty, cold welcome for her. She
shivered, but her heart was happy. After the wedding they had had, a couple of quiet
weeks at the beach were exactly what they needed to start their married life.
“Just sun, sand and love,” Jane said. “No more crisis.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Outside, the sky was hung with streamers of
stars, and the crashing waves of the Pacific roared a welcome. The night air
was a blend of salty-beach freshness and a distant beachside bonfire.

“Close your eyes.” Jake led her through the house—up
a small staircase and around a corner. “Here we are.”

Jane opened her eyes to a bedroom straight out
of a magazine. “Ooh…” A sea breeze blew through the open window, fluttering the
cheesecloth curtains. Low, romantic light glowed from two bedside lamps. The
bed itself was a high, four-poster bed painted white and covered with a simple,
fluffy down comforter. And rose petals.

Jake slipped his fingers through Jane’s and
walked very slowly toward the inviting bed. “Baby…” He drew the one word out,
slow and rough. Very sexy.

A pure, delicious shiver skated up Jane’s arms.
She breathed deep, savoring the moment.

Her honeymoon. The perfect honeymoon with Jake.

A gust blew through the open window, delivering
a sour punch.

“Ew,” Jane whispered, and giggled, embarrassed
by how embarrassed she was to be in this moment, and almost grateful for the
break the less-than-amorous aroma had brought.

Jake shut the window.

“No, leave it open,” Jane said. “I’m sure it
won’t happen again.”

He cracked the window, but the wind must have
turned because the smell came in even stronger. “I’ll just shut it, baby,” he
said.

“Isn’t that an ocean-facing window?” Jane asked.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. That smell was especially bad. Worse
than the grossest things she had come across in her life as a housecleaner, and
that included a few different dead bodies. “What do you think is out there
stinking like that?”

“Dead fish?” Jake flung himself onto the bed,
his hands behind his head.

“It’s not a fishy smell. It’s…earthier than
that.” Jane moved to the window and opened it again. “I think it’s something in
our yard.” She stuck her head out the window and took a deep breath. “I could
be wrong, but whatever it is, it’s close.”

“Then shut the window and let me help you forget
about it.”

Jane blushed. Then she shut the window, and for
the rest of the night she completely forgot the weird smell outside.

The cry of a gull woke Jane in the morning. She
rolled over and pressed her face to the pillow, happy, content. It had been a
good idea to get married in August. Right now, the wedding and all it entailed
over, she could no longer remember why she had wanted so badly to put it off.
She rolled onto her back with a sigh, arms over head.

The window was open and an ocean breeze ruffled
the soft curtains. Jane took a deep breath.

That earthy, rotten smell from the night before
floated in on the wind and gagged her.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Something had
died outside, probably in their yard.

Their yard.
She was officially Mrs.
Jake Crawford, and that patch of sand behind the clapboard bungalow was her
yard.

At
her
beach house.

She couldn’t laze around enjoying that fact for
long, with the smell rolling in the window, so she padded downstairs barefoot,
enjoying the cold, painted steps on her toes.

Jake was lounging on a rattan sofa in front of a
huge window that looked out across the small, unfenced yard and straight to the
ocean. “Good morning, light of my life.” His eyes had a satisfied look to them
that made Jane blush.

“I smell coffee,” Jane said. “Which is a miracle
considering the something outside that is ruining the morning breeze in our
bedroom.”

He sighed. “Shall we start an investigation into
who killed the raccoon?”

“It was a raccoon?” Jane shuddered. Raccoons had
those cunning eyes and creepy hands. She was definitely a city girl.

“Don’t know yet, but it has to be that or a
possum.”

“Worse and worse! I’ll just stay in here,
staring at the ocean and drinking that good coffee, while you make it
disappear.”

“As you wish.” Jake took his time getting off
the couch. He wandered over to Jane and took her in his arms for a long kiss.
“To remember me by.” He held her, stroking the backs of her bare arms with his fingertips.

“You are my hero.” She moved to the kitchen. If
he had had the place stocked up in advance, she would make him a big breakfast
to say thanks for taking care of the dead raccoon/possum/monster outside.

There was a little food. Jake must have put some
effort in to set the house up for their honeymoon. Jane put a pat of butter in a
frying pan and yawned. She could do fried eggs and toast with the best of them,
though her sausage patties needed a little practice.

The eggs were ready to flip when the front door
shut with a bang.

Jake stepped into the kitchen wordlessly, his
face drained of color. He picked up his cell phone with a shaking hand.

“A big raccoon?” Jane asked.

“A person.”

Jane dropped the spatula in the pan and stared.
A person. A
dead
person. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, then wandered into the other
room. His voice was indistinct as he spoke to the 911 operator.

She didn’t join him in the front room. She had
made that call enough times on her own.

But she did turn off the pan and slip out the
back door.

The Crawford beach house backed to the ocean, on
top of a rolling dune. The land around it that she had called “yard” was firm
and sandy and didn’t grow much but dune grass. A shed sat to the side of the
yard, out of the way of all of the view windows. The door was ajar.

Jane took a deep breath and forged ahead.
Whoever lay in the shed wouldn’t look like much, if he or she smelled this bad.
Jane put her hand to her nose and pulled open the door.

The pile of person on the floor of the shed wore
a denim jacket, a pair of work boots, and a grisly aspect that made Jane turn
away, stomach painfully retching, before she could take any further notes. She
let go of the door and let it swing behind her while she doubled over, dry heaving,
thankful she hadn’t eaten that big breakfast yet.

As soon as she pulled herself together, she made
her way back into the house—the ringing of police sirens already sounding in
the distance.

The police who came to the door were kind,
friendly. They looked like father and son, but when they introduced themselves,
they weren’t. “Josh Barret,” the younger man, a sergeant, by his stripes, said,
tapping his chest.

“Dave Ross. You can call me Dave.” The older man
puffed a breath through his bushy mustache. “You poor kids.” He didn’t rush out
to the shed, but took their statements. “You say you noticed a bad smell last
night but didn’t go out to check it?”

Jane’s face heated. “Right. We figured it was a
raccoon or something.”

“We’re on our honeymoon.” Jake stood, legs
apart, arms crossed, and shook his head.

“You from Portland?” Josh asked.

“Yeah.” Jane was glad to turn the conversation
from their romantic plans.

“Have you heard much about the missing teens?”
Inspector Dave asked. “Five local kids went missing three weeks ago. And each
of the nearby towns have lost kids, too.” He shook his head. “I hope to God
this body isn’t a sign of what’s been happening.”

Jane gripped Jake’s hand. She’d dealt with
murder plenty, but not serial killers. That was out of her league.

“Let’s go look at the guy before we jump to any
conclusions.” Josh stared out the front window at the roiling sea.

“Yup. We’d better.”

Jake led the men outside to the shed.
Jane…couldn’t.

She wrapped herself in a blanket and stared at
the sea. Whoever was out there, decomposing in the shed, had died a while ago.
Three weeks, maybe even. But this was her honeymoon. A week to rest, relax, and
grow more and more in love with Jake.

She settled into the wicker sofa. The body
wasn’t kid-sized, so she supposed Inspector Dave had meant five local youths or
young adults had gone missing. If so, Jake probably found one. But why? Had
someone kidnapped them to kill them and leave them in sheds up and down the
coast? And if so, why start with hers?

Or perhaps they hadn’t started with hers. How
many houses were vacation homes not currently occupied? How many sheds could
now join the Warrenton haunted sheds tour?

No. This was her honeymoon. She was going to
leave the murder to the professionals.

Someone drove up the gravel drive. Jane went to the
door and watched a professional-looking woman in a lab coat exit a panel wagon.
Most likely the county medical examiner. Jane let the blanket drop from her
shoulders. What would the medical examiner see that she had been too stunned to
notice?

The ME joined the crowd at the shed, with Jane
right behind her.

“Judy.” Inspector Dave shook the medical
examiner’s hand. “I’m hoping it’s not one of our fellas.” He gave his head a
quick shake.

“He’s somebody’s son, anyway.” Judy knelt beside
the body, her hands on her knees, just looking at it. “He’s not in good shape.”
Judy already had latex gloves on and gingerly pressed on the shoulder. There
wasn’t much left to see of the face or the hands. “I’ll get him home and give
him a thorough exam.” She stood up again.

A young man who had come with her rolled a cot
into the shed.

“I’ll help,” Josh said. He swallowed hard.

Inspector Dave had tears in his eyes. “Thanks.”

While the two men loaded the deceased into a
black body bag and onto the cart, Inspector Dave and Dr. Judy walked into the
shed. Inspector Dave kicked the east wall lightly. “Looks like the critters
came in here.”

“Was the door open?” Judy asked.

“It was unlocked, but latched,” Jake said.

“Then I’m with you, Dave. The critters who made
a meal of him got in that way.” She swatted away buzzing flies. “If there’s
nothing in his pockets, we’ll have to go by his teeth. If he was local, we’ll
know who he was.” Dr. Judy’s attention turned to the far wall hung with body
boards. “What’s this, then?” Her gloved hand went to a faded purple rectangle
of rigid foam used for playing in the ocean.

Jane followed Inspector Dave to the wall.

“Looks like a bullet hole.” Dave’s face was
grim. “Maybe the first shot missed.”

Judy sighed. “We’ll know more after the exam.”
She left the shed, not seeming to notice Jane.

Jane went around to the ME’s van. Josh and the
other guy were shutting the back.

Dr. Judy stopped at the young men. “Thanks,
Josh.”

The other guy popped open the passenger door.

“You and Sadie can still come by for dinner.
I’ll get takeout.”

“I can bring something,” Josh offered.

“Thanks, hon.” She kissed the side of his head
and went to her own car door.

“See you tonight, Mom.” Josh waved as the van
pulled out.

Inspector Dave offered Jake his hand. “Again,
real sorry about this. He’s gone now, though, and you can get back to your
honeymooning.”

Jake’s mouth was a grim line. “Don’t worry about
us. We aren’t the ones who are suffering right now.”

“We’ll be here a while,” Jane said. “Please let
us know what we can do.”

Inspector Dave patted the pocket he had slipped
his notepad into. “Not much you can do. You just got here last night. But I’ve
got your number. I’ll call if something comes up.”

Jake slipped his arm around Jane’s waist, and
they watched from the driveway until the police car was gone.

They skipped breakfast, spending most of the
morning walking close to the ocean, the firm, wet sand beneath their feet a
comfort. The roaring of the ocean meant they didn’t really need to speak.

It was natural to keep walking until they found
themselves, around lunchtime, at Serendipity Café on Main Street.

“We can go home.” Jake took a deep drink from
his mug of coffee. “Not that home is all that much.”

Jane dragged her fingers through her salt-wind-whipped
hair. “I don’t think we should go.”

Jake exhaled. “I’m glad. You’re going to hate
the condo so much. I just can’t even think of taking you there yet.”

Jane let a little smile escape. “I don’t hate
the condo. It’s a great condo. Most girls my age would give their life savings
to live in a place like that.”

“But you almost got a mansion in a gentrified
upper-crust enclave.”

“True. But we get rent from the mansion, so
that’s probably even better.”

Jake turned serious again. “Are you sure you
don’t want to leave? We can go up to Astoria or get a hotel. Or there’s a fun
little haunted bed-and-breakfast called the Marlow House not far from here.”

“We’re already well on the way to a haunted
honeymoon, I’d say.” Jane stirred her tea. She was off balance. Not thinking.
That was the only explanation for ordering tea before afternoon.

A waiter with pink streaks in her hair delivered
Jane a cilantro and lime chicken wrap and a big burger covered in mushrooms for
Jake.

Jake took a huge bite, but Jane just picked at
her food.

“Do you think I’m ready to tackle a serial killer?”
she asked.

“You’re a hundred pounds soaking wet. You’re not
ready to tackle anybody.”

“I’ve helped bring five other suspicious deaths
to a conclusion, catching more than a few murderers.” The memory of the crazed
Cora Paige waving the soapy knife at everyone in her kitchen popped immediately
to mind. “And I survived our wedding.”

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me,”
Jake said, his face a study in mock-fear. “I didn’t do anything to poor Franny!”

Jane looked away and felt her face heat up. Their
banter brought to mind finding Jake’s dad, his heart attack the result of
potassium poisoning—though his death had technically been an accident. “I’m
sorry.”

Jake smiled. “Listen, my love, if we can’t make
jokes about murder, we will never survive your calling. Or life in general. And
I want to survive.”

“Still…”

“No. Don’t beat yourself up for accidentally
hitting close to home. While I wish my parents were still with us”—a dark, sad
look crossed his face—“wanting it can’t make it happen. And laughing keeps me
from jumping off a cliff. Okay? Please laugh with me.”

Murder. Death. Orphans. None of it was funny.
But you had to do something to keep facing life every single day, and Jane knew
Jake well enough to know that laughing at tragedy would help more than anything
else. “I can’t promise I won’t hate myself when I accidentally make a joke that
could hurt you. But if I see you laughing, I will laugh with you.”

“Thank you.” Jake picked up her hand and kissed
it. “Besides, if my mom were still alive, she would never have let me marry the
maid.” He lifted an eyebrow, daring Jane to laugh.

She just shook her head. It was a little funny
because he was right. Barb wouldn’t have liked this wedding, for all her
support of Jane’s hard work and industry.

Jake squashed his burger down and took a big
bite.

Jane nibbled her roll-up. The cilantro and lime
were perfectly balanced. She ate a little more before she spoke. “I don’t feel
up to catching a serial killer. And I don’t like that feeling.”

“What makes you think this was the work of a
psycho?”

“All the missing kids. This body must be one of
them, and they must all have been killed and stowed in sheds up and down the
coast. Don’t you think?”

“I’d bet not, if I was asked to make a bet.” He
put his burger down. “This is our honeymoon, our vacation.”

She sighed. Of course it was. He wouldn’t want
her to do any sleuthing during their last days together before he ran off to
Thailand for a month.

“You need to call Rocky and Flora.” He
straightened his shoulders. “If this is going to be a working vacation, it
needs to count toward your supervised hours.”

Jane reached across the table for his hand. “I’m
sorry. I won’t. I don’t want to leave the Crawford Cabin. I want to stay here
and have a romantic week.”

“Phoebe got the Crawford Cabin. This is
technically the beach house. The cabin is out by Cultus Lake.” He took another
drink of his coffee and acted like having more than one vacation property was
perfectly normal.

“Any other homes away from home I should know
about?” Jane allowed herself to be distracted from the decision she was about
to make regarding turning her honeymoon into a supervised work trip.

“I promise as soon as I get back we will sit
down with the money guy and go over the whole portfolio.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Is it a home if someone else lives in it?”

“Could you just give me a clear answer on the
one part of that question? How many homes could you and I spirit ourselves away
to at a moment’s notice?”

“It took more than a moment’s notice to get the
beach house clean and warm and stocked with good food and dead bodies for you,
my macabre darling.”

“Jake.” Jane narrowed her eyes and contemplated
splashing him with a finger full of tea. “You did not get a dead body for me,
and you are avoiding the question.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Do you
really want to do this now?”

“Yes.”

“You and I live in the Pear District condo. We
own the Laurelhurst house. We own the Warrenton house, here at the beach. The
cabin is not ours, sorry, darling boo. It’s Phoebe’s. We also own a little
place in the hills on the Clackamas River, but we don’t call that the cabin, we
call that the shack. Trust me, it’s the right name. We also have a condo down
in Mexico…but could you call that owned, really? It’s on a hundred-year lease. And
anyway, it’s in the family trust. Any old Crawford can go there.” He cleared
his throat, clearly enjoying the moment. “And…I don’t know how you really feel about
Europe, but Mom bought a
pied
-
à
-
terre
in
Paris a year before she died. Even I just found out about it. I was thinking of
giving it to Phoebe or selling it. I don’t know. It’s not paid off yet, which
makes it kind of a burden. But it’s the only one not paid off.”

“Paris?” Jane felt faint.

“And while I was in Thailand for a year it made
a lot of sense to buy a place there, up in the mountains. I was feeling
impetuous and little places like that are pretty cheap, really. But yes, it was
an expense I should have considered longer. It did take a bite out of my nest
egg.”

“Jake, you are…really, really rich.” Her head
felt like it was floating above her body. All she could do was stare at him,
her mouth slightly opened. She had known the Crawfords her whole life, but she
hadn’t really known, hadn’t imagined. Couldn’t imagine a life where it “just
made more sense” to buy a little place in Thailand.

“
We
are, babe. Not just me. It’s all both
of ours now. We have a fishing cabin in Alaska, too, but I just let a property
management company handle that. People rent it and stuff. I don’t ever go
there.”

“Jake, this is getting ridiculous.” She pushed
her plate away. “I feel a little sick.” Her stomach had flipped over, twice,
but it was sick with excitement, like the feeling she had the night before
Christmas every year of her childhood. It was good sick. It was guilty sick.

“I never technically lied to you. I just sort of
kept things hidden that I didn’t think you’d like.”

Jane chewed her lip. How would they ever take
care of all of this?

“We can talk about the investment properties
later.”

“There are more?”

“Yeah…Grandpa was a smart guy and picked up a lot
of land in East Portland for cheap back in the fifties. It was a good move for
the family. It may sound like you and I have a lot of, um, places, but you
should see what Jeff has.”

“If Jeff has so much of his own, why does he
need to live in the Laurelhurst house?” Jane ran her hand through her ponytail,
this time honestly trying to get a grip on how all of this worked. Money.
Families. Those two things rarely went together well.

Jake drummed his fingers on the table. “I know
it’s a major disappointment not to get to live there, but honestly…I kind of
think this is the way Grandpa would have liked it. He gave my parents a place
to live—oh, that’s right. I forgot about that one. The Alameda house where I
was born. It’s a little place. He liked his kids to start out small. Jeff is
older. He’s running the company. And he already put in his time in a small
place.”

Jane held up both hands. “I surrender. You are
very rich. All of my pull-myself-up-by-my-own-bootstraps drive is wasted in
this relationship. I could never bring anything into this family.” She forced a
bright smile. It would be ridiculous, foolish even, to pretend that she hadn’t
just won all of the lotteries ever. But it did kind of break her heart, a
little. Of all the things she had ever wanted in her life, the number one was
to prove to the world that she could make it without her parents’ money. Money
that was nothing compared to Jake’s, well, hers, now.

“That’s not true, sweetie. You’re an only child.
There’s no one else to inherit your dad’s very smart investments.” Jake cleared
his throat. “Your dad knows you pretty well and asked me to be the one to tell
you.”

“Tell me what?” Jane’s parents had spent the
last five years trying to shower her with money, and she had held them at bay,
except the car, a little tuition, apartment-moving expenses—oh, never mind. Any
sense of independence she had ever had, had been false.

“They put your grandma’s Mount Rainer house in
your name and gave it to us as a wedding present.”

Jane laughed—it started small, a little snort.
Then shook her shoulders silently. She opened her mouth and the sound that came
out made the patrons at the next table turn her way. “Are you kidding? I love
that house.”

“He said they never go anymore, and none of the
other grandkids thought they could afford to maintain it. He told me he bought it
from your grandma a few years ago.”

“I don’t know about the other places, but the
cabin on Rainier is the best. I love it so much.” Jane pulled herself together.
“I think I’m going crazy. This is nuts, isn’t it? People don’t start out like
this. Not at our age. Not people who want to give up everything they have to
follow God around the world.”

“It’s handy to have a place to stay anywhere God
sends us…” He lifted both eyebrows endearingly.

“Give the Paris place to Phoebe.” A pinch of
regret tugged Jane’s heart.
Paris!
“If we ask nicely, she’ll probably
let us stay there.”

“How about a different one instead. That’s the
only one with a payment still. Kind of a white elephant.”

Jane took a deep breath. “We can figure it out
with the money guy, I guess. In the meantime…”

“We should get back home to the bedroom?” Jake’s
eyes twinkled.

“I should probably call Rocky and Flora. There’s
no way I can look a gift corpse in the mouth.”

“So to speak.” Jake grimaced.

Jane remembered the remnants of the body’s face
and also wished she had come up with a different turn of phrase. Jake’s
accounting of their various properties was outside of the realm of reality, so
she filed it away to be thought about in the far future. The Rainier cabin, on
the other hand, made her happier than she had expected. Thrilled, really. She
could keep going there, could take her future kids there, could even bring
Gemma and Grant there someday if they wanted to come, which they would. And
thinking about a lifetime of happy memories on the mountain helped her forget
about how gross the body in the shed had been.

Jane and Jake made it back to the Crawford beach
house and were ready to get to work on the murder. “This place is going to need
a better name than the Crawford beach house.” Jane settled into the kitchen and
poured herself another cup of coffee.

“The house of sand and fog?” Jake stood at the
picture window, staring at the ocean.

“Ew, no.” Jane tapped her phone screen. “I’m
going to make the call. I am going to do it. This case was almost literally a
wedding present.”

“Yup.”

Jane tapped the contact info for Flora Wilson at
the SCoRI office. “A wedding present from God.”

“Just call, will you?”

Jane pressed the little green phone icon. It
rang.