Good, Clean Murder (10 page)

Tuesday morning,
first thing, Jane stood in the parking lot of her old apartment building,
shivering in the early morning mist. She stared at the warped vinyl siding,
irritated with Sam.

Of course Sam was
late. Jane had almost anticipated that. But the landlord wasn’t there yet
either. She recognized the few cars in the parking lot as her old neighbors.

Jane was about to
give up when she heard someone pulling into the parking lot. She turned and saw
Sam in the muddy, lifted, Toyota. Sam had been having fun recently, if the
amount of mud caked on the off-roading truck was any indication. As muddy as it
was, at least she had brought the pickup.

Sam joined Jane at
the foot of the stairs to their apartment.

“The landlord’s
not here yet.” Jane looked at her watch.

“Not a prob.”

A short, skinny,
young man with a shaven head and a black hoodie joined the girls. “Hey.” He
tipped his chin to Jane.

“Oh…hi.” Jane
turned back to Sam. “Thanks for bringing help. How long do you think we have to
wait to get in?”

Sam laughed. She
pointed at the door to their old place. “How’s now?”

Jane turned to the
door. The bald guy had already gotten it opened.

“Let’s get your
stuff and go.”

Jane was torn.
This was obviously breaking and entering. It was probably stealing as well, but
if the landlord was coming to dump it all, it must be no big deal. She ran up
the steps and followed Sam into the apartment.

The lights were
off. Jane flipped the switch a few times to no avail. She shivered. It was as
cold in the apartment as it was outside. The apartment smelled stale, like dust
and old appliances. She stared at the gray carpet. Had it smelled like that the
whole time she had lived there?

The bald guy
lifted her futon mattress off the frame. Sam pulled down the curtains with a
crack. The screws from the flimsy curtain rod left small holes in the
sheetrock.

“Hey, Jane, did
you bring cash?” Sam rolled the curtains into a messy ball and tossed them to
the door.

The bald guy laid
the futon mattress on the floor. He folded the futon frame and lifted it on his
shoulders.

Jane had a sinking
feeling in her stomach. She was pretty sure the landlord wasn’t coming.

“Yeah.” Jane
pulled her phone out of her pocket and toyed with the keys. “I did bring cash.
How about I give it to you after we get my stuff stored?”

The bald guy was
already outside putting her bed frame in the back of the pickup. She stared at
him from the window. How did a little guy like that get so strong?

“How about when we
all get back in the truck? It’s on empty and I need gas before I can take your
stuff.”

Jane’s miniature
safe was sitting in the middle of the floor. It had been hidden under the futon
before. “I’ll get your gas, no problem, but I’ll pay you the cash when we get
my stuff stored.” She picked up the box and cradled it in her arms. She scanned
the room. She wanted the small box and her bed. She wouldn’t feel like a thief
if that was all she took.

The bald guy came
back up and grabbed the mattress. He began to drag it to the door. In an effort
to save it from the asphalt, Jane set her box on the breakfast bar and picked
up the other end.

“I’m Jane.” The
mattress, though heavy, wasn’t as bad as she had expected.

“Hey.”

They hefted the
mattress on top of the bed frame in the back of the muddy truck.

“Looks like rain.”
Jane had a smear of dirt across her chest from leaning over the muddy truck
bed.

“We’d better get
your stuff put away fast.” The bald guy still didn’t introduce himself. As soon
as he had balanced the mattress on the bed frame he hoofed it back up the
stairs.

Jane followed him.
Where was she going to take her stuff? She couldn’t keep it at the Crawfords’
house.

She grabbed her
ever ready phone and called her friend Sarah at Harvest.

“Hey, Jane!
Whassup?”

“I need a huge
favor. How much stuff are you allowed to have on campus?”

“I dunno. What do
you mean?”

Jane stood at the
breakfast bar in the small, cold, apartment. She traced the company logo on her
lock box. “I mean, like, do you guys have storage there or something?”

“Not really. What
do you need to store?”

“I finally got my
stuff from the apartment and I need a place for my futon. I think everything
else can come to the room I have, but it’s already got a bed.”

“Oh that! That’s
no biggy.” Sarah mumbled something away from the receiver. “We’ve got a really
empty common room we can put it in.”

“You can? The
school won’t mind?” Jane let out a sign of relief.

“Nah. Lila and
Holly keep a mini fridge and a PlayStation out there, but there’s nowhere to
sit. We’d all love to have your futon for a while.”

“Great! Great,
great, great!” Jane tapped her toes. It was a long drive to the school, but she
was buying the gas so Sam had better not complain.

“Hey, if you can
get here in an hour you can catch Mr. Daniels before he leaves again.”

“Isaac is there?”
The news kept getting better and better.

“
Isaac
is
here.” Sarah’s sing-song voice didn’t ruin Jane’s good mood.

“Well then, I’ll
get there in an hour.”

Jane ended the
call.

As soon as all of
Jane’s limited belongings had been stuffed into a black trash bag she was ready
to go. Jane grabbed her lock box on her way out.

The bald guy had
the screen.

“Let’s leave right
now. I’ve got to ride with you guys, okay?”

Sam frowned.
“That’ll be cozy.”

Jane didn’t
respond. She ran down the steps and climbed into the truck with the lock box on
her lap. Sam took shotgun. She had shoved the trash bag into a free spot in the
truck bed.

Jane bought their
gas with her emergency credit card. The freedom of having her safety net back
made her heart soar.

When they arrived
at Harvest the bald guy toted all of the furniture up to the common room for
Jane. Sam dumped the trash bag on the sidewalk in front of the dorm building.

“Cash, Jane?”

“Yes, just a sec.
Are you splitting it with your friend?”

“None of your
business, is it?”

“No, of course
not.” Jane dug the envelope of cash she had made up for Sam out of her purse.
Before she handed it over she took out the gas money.

“Three hundred
dollars?” Sam took the envelope from her.

“Minus what I just
put in your tank.”

“Excuse me?” Sam
gripped the envelope in her hand, her eyebrows pulled down.

“You said you
needed money for gas. I filled your tank with my card so I took it out of the
cash.” Jane’s heart was racing again. Confrontation did that to her. Her cheeks
were hot. Sam had spent most of a year’s rent on whatever it was she spent
money on. Jane wasn’t going to let her clean out the rest of her hard-earned
money.

Someone put a hand
on the small of Jane’s back.

She jumped.

“Sorry,” Isaac
said, “didn’t mean to surprise you.” He didn’t remove his hand.

Jane’s heart
slowed to normal. A smile crept onto her previously angry face. “Isaac, this is
Sam, the roommate I told you about.”

“Ah.” Isaac used
his “professor” voice. “Did I tell you yet that I talked to my dad, the judge?
He thinks you have at least a small claims case on this.”

Sam sniffed.
“Whatever. She’s got her stuff.”

“And you seem to
have her money.” There was a tone in Isaac’s voice now that Jane hadn’t heard
yet. It was serious. It also reminded her how little she knew him.

“We made a deal,
a’ight?” Sam flipped her stringy brown ponytail over her shoulder.

“Like the deal
where Jane paid you half of the rent so she could have a home?”

Before Sam could
respond the bald guy was at her side. “What’s going on?”

Sam nodded her
head in Isaac’s direction. “Someone’s got a problem with our deal.”

“Oh yeah?” The
bald guy cracked his knuckles.

In her peripheral
vision, Jane saw her classmates gathering. She closed her eyes and prayed for
wisdom and calm.

“What’s the big
deal? We moved her and she paid for gas.” The bald guy was looking over Isaac’s
shoulder.

Jane turned and
saw the pastor of Harvest Bible Church, who was also the administrator of the
school, standing in the front door.

Sam’s face flushed
red. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Do we still have
a problem?” The bald guy’s eyes darted to the crowd gathering to his left.

“Yes, we do still
have a problem. Jane paid for the gas and gave Sam an envelope of money. Jane
is really nice, but you and I can agree that since Sam spent all of Jane’s rent
money, Jane doesn’t owe Sam anything for bringing her stuff here.”

The bald guy
looked at Sam. He snorted. “Idiot.” He snatched the envelope from Sam’s fist
and tossed it at Jane’s feet. Then he grabbed Sam and dragged her back to the
truck, muttering to her under his breath.

The crowd of
students laughed a little and dispersed in a ripple of horseplay.

Isaac stooped down
to pick up the envelope. “You are a very, very nice person, Jane.”

“Mr. Daniels?
Jane? I’d like to see you in my office.” The serious, pastoral voice of Pastor
Barnes echoed in the tree-lined driveway.

“Yes, sir.” Jane
hated that tone of voice. Officious and doom-ridden. Nothing good could come
from a meeting in Pastor Barnes’s office that started with that tone of voice.

Isaac cocked an
eyebrow at Jane. He took her hand and held it all the way into the office.

Once in the office
she dropped Isaac’s hand and laced her fingers together.

“Take a seat,
please.” Pastor Barnes’s voice was quieter, but just as low and serious. “Word
has reached me, as administrator for Harvest School of the Bible, that there
may be…inappropriate flirtation going on between the two of you.”

“How do you define
flirtation, sir?” Isaac asked.

Jane’s mouth popped
open. Isaac had his own pastoral voice.

“May I remind you
of your contract? This goes for both of you. Instructors at this Bible school
are strictly forbidden from dating students.”

Jane twisted her
mouth. This wasn’t like Pastor Barnes. Sure, he was as straight-laced as
physically possible, but he didn’t usually glower and boom like this. Whoever
complained must have been important.

“Have you called
us into the office for flirtation or dating?”

Had Isaac
inherited his official tones from his father the judge?

“Flirtation is in
direct conflict with the spirit of the rules,
Mr.
Daniels. It is never
appropriate for an adult instructor to instigate a romantic relationship with
one of our teenage students.”

Jane cleared her
throat. “I will be twenty-one in April.”

Pastor Barnes
stared at Jane for a moment. “That’s right. You are a
non-traditional
student for this school.”

Isaac smiled at
Jane with a sparkle in his eyes. “Pastor Barnes, I’m only a year older than she
is. How can our getting to know each other be against the spirit of the rule?”

“Age is beside the
point. When you accepted admittance to Harvest School of the Bible, young lady,
you agreed to abide by the rules. You, in fact, agreed not to date at all while
you lived on this campus. It’s a time-honored tradition at Harvest.”

“Ah.” Isaac drew
out the word with satisfaction. “If you recall, Jane doesn’t live on campus.”

Pastor Barnes
stood up. “Let’s not get cocky, Isaac. You signed a form stating you would not
date students while you were our guest lecturer. Your conduct has been noted by
several people and I have received complaints. End it now. Do you understand?”

Jane’s jaw
tightened. Two years. For two years she had abided by the rules of this little
school, though she was a part-time, off-campus student. Graduation, if you
could call it that, considering what she had recently learned about their loose
curriculum standards, was just three months away.

A wave of guilt
washed over her. For two years she had been building relationships with the staff
of the school and the church in hopes of having their future support as a
missionary—both prayer support and financial, if possible. Had she thrown all
of that away by accepting a date with Isaac? By having a conversation—a class
related conversation—about a hurting family in need? She looked at the ground.

“Yes, sir,” she
said quietly. “I understand.”

“You are both
excused.”

Jane walked back
out to the parking lot without looking at Isaac.

Sam and the bald
guy were long gone.

Jane picked up her
trash bag of personal effects.

Personal effects.

She checked her
watch. If she left for the Crawfords’ right this moment she would make it back
in time to pick up Jake for their trip to the medical examiner’s office. She
worked her jaw back and forth in an effort to keep from crying. At least she
had the cash. She could pay for a taxi home. She patted her pocket but the
reassuring crinkle of the envelope full of cash was missing.