Bright New Murder (5 page)

6

According to the radio, there was a crash on the Terwilliger curves, which meant the hour she had given herself to get across town was just enough.

“Sorry I let the side down,” Jake said.

“Excuse me?”

“My curse. Traffic-stopping curves.”

“Huh?” Jane’s eyes were trained on the cars ahead of her, and her mind on the questions she wanted to ask Sasha.

“Jacob
Terwilliger
Crawford?”

“Your middle name is Terwilliger? Like Sideshow Bob?”

“And the deadly curves on the highway.”

“Family name, I assume?”

“But of course.”

Jane inched her way into the lane she needed. She had Jake all to herself for an hour, at least. Now was as good a time as any to address the Gemma situation. Her heart pounded. She hated to do it, but if he couldn’t tell what he was doing to poor Gemma, he had to be told. “So, about Gemma.”

“Good kid.”

“Yeah, she’s twenty-five. I don’t think she thinks of herself as a kid.”

“Right-oh.”

“Be serious for a second.” Jane licked her lips. This was hard. “You’re around too much. You’re making her think you’re into her. It’s not fair.”

“I can’t help other people’s misconceptions.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t give her any reason to think I like her. In fact, she’s an idiot if she thinks I do. First of all, she’s too old. She’s like, what? A solid three years older than me? A cougar. Not my thing.”

Jane exhaled slowly through tight lips, a thing she was doing a lot of lately. “Be serious. She’s gorgeous, smart, and completely infatuated with you. You’re going to end up hurting her, and then things will be awkward. You need to start hanging out with your other friends more.”

“What other friends?” Jake rolled his eyes.

“Voted most popular at Prez Prep senior year, and you ask what other friends?”

“Dark ages, Jane.”

“Your friends from uni, then. I don’t care who. You need to go find your other friends.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

She was tempted to say yes, but in reality it was the last thing she wanted. She dismissed reality for the moment. “I’m trying to protect Gemma’s feelings.”

“If you want to get rid of me, just say so. If I’m a pain, if you don’t like me around, say the word and I’m gone.”

“You
are
a pain.”

Jake popped the door open. He leaned out of the car. “Adios.”

“See?” They were crawling at five miles an hour, but Jane braked hard.

Jake jerked forward. Then he sat back and shut the door. “My old friends…” He sighed. “It’s not the same anymore.”

“Since you lost your parents?”

“Yes and no. I mean yes, because that made me take a good, long look at life, and I saw that it sucked, and I hated it.”

“And your friends were included in that list?”

“No. But I hit the road. I spent a year in Thailand doing great things. When I came home…” He shook his head. “What can you expect? I don’t really want to go get blotto at Bubbles watching girls dance, after spending a year saving girls from sex trafficking.”

“That’s not what your old friends do.”

“Wanna bet? Take the next exit. I’ll show you where my old friends spend Friday nights.”

“Then make new friends.”

“I did.” He tilted his head and gave her a cheesy grin.

“Make more new friends. Cut your random visits down to one a week or less. Spend time with men or something.”

Jake crossed his arms behind his head. “As you wish.”

“Oh, shut up.”

***

Jake looked far more at ease at the Henry house than Jane felt. The place had the gravitas of a palace, propped on the side of the hill as it was, overlooking downtown Portland—from the west.

“Don’t stare,” Jake whispered.

Jane pulled her eyes down from the coffered ceiling of the foyer. A maid had opened the door and let them in. The Henrys had live-in uniformed help. She had
been
live-in help for a short while, the year before. Jake’s live-in help. She trained her eyes on the wall.

A woman with bobbed silver hair, wearing dark jeans with light stitches and a cashmere sweater, padded into the foyer. “Welcome.” She held her hand out to Jane. “Why don’t you come with me into the living room?”

The living room was smaller than Jane expected, but still very formal. She was thankful it wasn’t her job to keep the stains off of the white rugs and the linen-covered furniture. “Thank you so much for letting us stop in.”

“Of course.” Sasha waved towards the sofa.

Sasha perched on the edge of an armchair.

Jane ran through her list of questions, trying to land on the one that would help make Sasha comfortable, but still get her the right information, right away.

“I am so sorry that my fundraising event had such a terrible cost for you.” Jake leaned forward, his face a picture of concern.

Jane watched him closely. His eyes were moist and his face flushed. He looked completely sincere.

“Thank you.” Sasha pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes again. “You’re Bob and Pam Crawford’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.

“Well then, you certainly understand the struggles ahead.” She returned Jake’s look of sympathy with one of motherly concern.

“I do.”

“Are any of Michelle’s family in the area?” Jane asked. She was grateful that Jake had joined her. He was a steadfast friend, for sure, but she didn’t want him to run away with the conversation. She’d never learn to do this if she relied on him for everything.

Sasha shook her head. “No. When she retired, she moved to Nevada to live nearer her son and his family.”

“What brought her to Portland?”

“She had some work to take care of.” Sasha dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I understand.” Jake’s voice was low, and a little husky.

“She had retired though, generally speaking?”

“Yes, she had. Lucky thing. I wanted to retire at fifty-five too, but it’s not happening.”

“What did she do before she retired?” Jane tried to match Jake’s naturally sympathetic tone, but her nerves made her voice shake. She did care about this woman who had lost her friend, but she was still scared to death of being recognized as a fraud.

“Do you know Trillium Montessori? That was her baby.”

“No…I’m sorry, I don’t.” Jane kicked herself for not having a notepad on hand. And yet, taking notes could ruin the mood.

“It’s a preschool and kindergarten in Lake Oswego. She founded it about twenty years ago. My kids went there. That’s how I met her.” Sasha’s voice broke. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were stained with fresh tears.

She wasn’t truly ready to talk yet.

“Did she come back to town to check on the new administrator?” Jake asked.

“No, she came to finalize some things about the sale. The sale of the school was what enabled her to retire early.” A light buzzing noise caught Sasha’s attention. She picked a phone off of the antique side table and checked the screen. “I’m sorry, this is Michelle’s daughter-in-law. I need to take the call.” She answered the phone, then stood up.

Jake followed her lead.

Jane considered the sale of the school. Could something have gone wrong with it? She’d have to find out who the buyer was, for sure.

Jake took hold of her elbow gently and prodded her to get up.

Sasha stood by the living room door, talking on her phone, but looking towards the foyer, eyebrows lifted.

They left, nodding their goodbyes.

The drive home was just as slow, since their conversation with Sasha had been cut short.

Jake reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

“My next step is to find out who bought Trillium Montessori.” Jane thought about telling Jake to take notes while she drove.

Jake yawned.

“Then I need to figure out if anyone the buyer knew happened to be at the party. As well as what might have possibly gone wrong with the sale.” Jane switched lanes. “And I need to find out if any of the guests had had kids at Trillium. They could tell me a lot about Michelle, I bet.” She needed to get over one more lane so she wouldn’t miss her exit, but the traffic was bumper to bumper and no one would let her through. She tried to pay equal attention to the cars in front of her and the ones to her side, but it felt like being in a pinball machine. Fear that she was going to kill them both tied for top place with fear that she would screw up the investigation. One of the two was going to give her a heart attack.

Jake didn’t answer.

“Do you have the guest list?” Jane tried to nose into the next lane, but the driver next to her laid on his horn. Jane wrenched the wheel and almost overshot.

“Just take the highway the whole way.” Jake turned on the radio. “Smooth jazz, Jane, really?” He clicked it over to the Fish.

“What about the guest list?”

He mouthed along with the song.

“Are you ignoring me now?” Jane gritted her teeth. He was…a pain.

“I think I used up my quota of friend time for the week.”

“Fine.” Jane didn’t need him to get the answers to her questions, but she did have to drive him back to her apartment since that’s where his car was.

They rode in silence, Jane brainstorming new questions, but in her head, and Jake pretending to care about the top ten Christian songs of the week.

Back at her apartment, she walked him to his car. “Thanks, Jake. You were right about coming with me.”

Jake looked past her, toward her apartment window. “And you’re right about Gemma.” He popped open his car door. “But
you
are going to miss me.”

He kissed the top of her head, climbed into his car, and drove away.

She had hardly had time to miss her ex-almost-fiancé, so she doubted she’d be overwhelmed with grief because Jake cut his impromptu visits down to once a week.

7

“How did it go?” Gemma handed Jane a cup of tea as soon as she stepped into the apartment.

“Pretty well. I think I have some idea of where to start, at least.” Jane settled into the corner of the sofa. She set her teacup on the coffee table and rested a notebook on her knee.

“Isaac called while you were out.”

Jane closed her eyes and counted to ten.

“I’m worried about you, Jane. You don’t seem to be grieving this loss at all, even though he was a big part of your life.”

Jane rocked her head back and forth, trying to loosen her tense shoulders. “I should be crying more. I’m sure I should, but it’s not happening.”

“That’s what I was thinking. When Nick and I broke up, I cried for weeks.”

“But you found out he cheated on you, right? I mean, he had to marry the girl. I think I would cry for weeks if I had found out that Isaac had done that.” Jane exchanged her notepad for her teacup. “But I dumped Isaac. Maybe girls don’t cry when they end the relationship.”

“I don’t know…”

“Maybe I didn’t really love him.” Jane sipped her tea. “I know we dated a long time by some standards, but he’s been gone for almost six months straight. In
Robin Hood
, Lady Cluck said, ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ but it didn’t.”

“You’re quoting a cartoon chicken?”

Jane shrugged. “Why not, if she’s right? I was really infatuated with Isaac…but I’m afraid I didn’t really love him.”

“But wasn’t it love at first sight?” Gemma sat down at Jane’s feet.

Jane pictured Isaac the first day she met him at school. Tall, adorable, smart. “Infatuation at first sight, anyway.”

“But you were star-crossed, doesn’t that count for anything?”

“We were Bible-school-administration-crossed. It’s not exactly the same thing.” All of a sudden, Jane’s heart hurt. It was like a sharp pang, like someone squeezed it tight. Isaac was so smart, and funny, and handsome, and nice. Her eyes stung with tears. She rested her chin on her knees and tried not to cry.

“Tell me again why you dumped him, because I just don’t get it.”

Jane wiped her eyes. She pictured them on the hood of his car watching the city of Portland sparkle in the distance. “He…he didn’t respect me.”

“Are you sure? Because I thought he really, really loved you.”

“No. I don’t think he did. He didn’t—” A sob broke out despite her best effort to stifle it. “He didn’t…” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” She laid her head on her folded arms and cried. The tears were hot and salty and felt as good rolling down her face as the pain in her heart felt awful.

“Don’t be sorry. I think you are finally starting to deal with your loss.”

She wiped her eyes. “He treated me like I was an accessory. A thing to make his life complete instead of a person who had her own call from God.”

“The missionary thing?”

“Umm hmm.” Jane dabbed her nose with a paper napkin.

“Please don’t be mad at me, but you dumped him because he didn’t respect your call to missions…and yet you aren’t, like, trying to be a missionary.”

“I can’t explain it, Gemma, which is probably part of why Isaac couldn’t respect it. I know in my heart God wants to use me overseas, but the only directions I have right now are to ‘wait.’ God didn’t say, ‘Go to Montreal with Isaac.’” Jane tried to sip her tea, but it burned the tip of her tongue.

“What did God say about Montreal?”

 
“He was kind of silent about it. Like I was supposed to use the brains he gave me to make that decision. And listening to the way Isaac talked about his work and my call and stuff…I don’t think that I could follow God’s best plan for me
and
marry Isaac. I wanted to, though. I really, really wanted to.” Jane squeezed her eyes shut.

Gemma leaned her head against Jane’s knee. “I know you did.” Her voice was a quiet hush.

***

By midnight Jane had a flow chart of case notes that was four pages long.

Michelle’s backstory inspired any number of questions that needed answers, as did her Google search.

The internet news seemed to love a Christmas charity killing. The protesters were a particularly popular feature online. A heated discussion had risen up on an anti-gun forum. Since the weapon of choice this time had been a knife, the pro-gun people had flooded the site. The initial posts were mostly neener-neener pro-gun posts, but it eventually evolved into a deep discussion of the facts of the case, most of which were new to Jane.

One poster, who went by “Bang-Bang Bambi’s Dead,” caught Jane’s eye right away. From Bang-Bang’s posts Jane learned that the HLP protesters had been targeting local dairies for the last twelve months. Jane couldn’t recall seeing any of that in the news, but it didn’t surprise her. Known for their nonviolent protests against food they deemed unhealthy, which usually included animal products and anything highly processed, the Human Liberation Party had taken a stand against pasteurization.

Against
pasteurization?

Jane googled that as well. Pasteurization killed germs that killed people, but pasteurization also killed bacteria that promoted healthful digestion. If she had to pick a side, offhand and just from what she saw at a glance, she would have to go pro-pasteurization. But then, she drew a picture of a barn next to her notes…on the whole, she didn’t trust people enough to buy raw milk and cream from just anyone. And at the same time, she’d seen enough exposé news about how animals get treated in huge farm corporations that she didn’t think mechanization made things better.

Not that she trusted the news much either.

She scratched out her barn picture.

Mistrust was a handier quality for a detective than for a missionary. So, she’d have to use it now, but work on improving her ability to trust people in the future.

Did she trust Bang-Bang’s posts? That was a good question, since Bang-Bang was also the only person in the conversation who mentioned that Michelle Smith had been an active member of the HLP from 2004 to 2010.

If she did trust Bang-Bang’s info, it would mean Michelle’s killer might have been targeting the Helpers.

Jane stretched to pop her back. She didn’t like where this train of thought was leading.

Who at a charity fundraiser had the most to lose from the protesters?

Helping Hands Early Education Center, represented by her cousin.

Yo-Heaven, represented by Jake.

The dairy industry…

The guest list, if she could ever prize it from her cousin and Jake, could help her find out if anyone at the party had links to the local dairies.

And anyone else HLP had targeted for protest recently. Which included Jake.

She crossed Jake off the list anyway. He was clearly big into God now, and that alone made him not a killer. But also, the “Fro-Yo Murder” wasn’t the kind of advertising a business owner wanted at the holidays. There was no way that the killing could help him.

She crossed Gemma off the list too because obviously her cousin didn’t kill the guest.