Bright New Murder (2 page)

2

The evening was dark, like all Portland evenings in winter. Thick pewter clouds that had made a perpetual dusk of the day spewed sleet across the town, making this Boxing Day possibly the ugliest day of the year.

Just perfect.

Jane sat on a stool by the window and watched the sleet slide down the glass in slushy sheets. This was no night for smoothies. But it was too late to worry about that now. Yo-Heaven, the frozen-yogurt smoothie empire Jake had inherited when his father died, was sponsoring a fundraiser for Helping Hands Early Education Center, so smoothies it was. Jake was revealing his New Year’s Cookie–flavored smoothies at this evening’s event, but…Jane sighed. That would hardly be enough to bring people out in this weather.

She turned her back on the window. The doors were opening in just twenty minutes and everyone was still rushing around, though the place looked perfect to Jane. The Shonley Center had moved them to the smaller banquet room at the last minute. The bad news was that it meant they were stuck at the back of a long, empty hallway. The good news was the room was much smaller, so the event would feel like a success even if it failed to meet their projections.

Jane jumped off the stool and wandered into the kitchen. Technically, she didn’t have to work until she directed the volunteers during teardown, but helping was better than sitting.

“Hey, Jane. Any word from Isaac?” Gemma licked the spatula she was holding.

“Shut up, Gemma, jeeze.” Phoebe Crawford rolled her eyes. “Jane, toss me that towel.”

Jane tossed the towel.

Phoebe rolled it up and smacked Gemma.

“Oh, he’ll call. It doesn’t matter what you think. He cannot live without her.”

Jake walked past with a tray full of smoothie samples. He didn’t say a word, but winked as he pushed open the door into the banquet room.

“He’s not the only one.” Phoebe hefted a big steel bowl onto her hip and carried it away.

“I wish you’d stop asking me about him. I don’t know if he’ll call or not. He’s kind of…I don’t know how to put it.”

“Sullen? Pouty? Brokenhearted?”

“He’s the strong, silent type. He might never call again.” Jane traced the faux granite design of the laminate counter with her fingertip. “And that’s fine, too. It’s not like I’m going to take him back or anything. This was the right decision for us.”

“You say that now, but wait until New Year’s Eve. You’ll change your tune by New Year’s.”

“Phoebe…do you need a hand with anything?” Jane called out.

“Yeah, out front. Go ask Jake. He’s got a huge list to do in the next few minutes.”

A tuxedo-clad server pushed his way past Jane.

“Never mind that.” Gemma tossed her spatula in a bowl. “You stay here and start washing up. Might as well get some of it done beforehand. I can go help Jake.”

Jane carried the bowl to the sink. Gemma was right. It wouldn’t hurt to get some of the washing done in advance. And she preferred to leave Gemma and Jake to each other. Two birds with one stone.

“You’re a dope,” Phoebe said. “Why dump Coach Isaac? Is there a hotter man in this town?”

“He’s not
in
this town. Well, he is, but not for long.”

“Yeah, that. He does have a lame job. I mean, how much money can a
professor
really make?”

Jane curled her lip up in disgust. It wasn’t about the money, or lack of money, or even the location. It was about the lack of…respect.

It was about the lack of
mutual
respect. She had as little interest in being a supportive college wife as he had in being the husband of a private detective, or missionary, or…

That was the other problem. He couldn’t see that her two dreams were just as important as his one. But the mutual part, yes, she was as much to blame as he was. She liked having a boyfriend…a handsome, important boyfriend. It had made a good change from no boyfriend at all. But, when it came down to brass tacks and diamond rings…

A sob was working its way up from her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath for a minute. Lack of mutual respect aside, she couldn’t imagine him not calling today. And not coming by this evening, and not cradling her in his arms so she could rest her head on his shoulder while they watched TV, their fingers laced together, him nuzzling her ear. She turned on the hot water and took a deep breath. He was very nice to have around, but that wasn’t the same thing as being the one she was supposed to marry.

Once guests began arriving, the banquet hall filled up fast, and it looked like they ought to have had the large ballroom after all. Jane had to hand it to Jake. He knew his events. She had doubted the kind of draw the local preschool-for-children-of-homeless-families could have, but her heart was warmed to see the hundred or more people jostling each other for a taster cup of smoothies and the chance to donate to needy kids. She hadn’t signed on as a server, but she carried trays and filled cups and tossed away the empties anyway.

But she kept thinking she saw Isaac out of the corner of her eye. Every time a dark head appeared to the side of the room, she just knew it was him, come to say they could make it work. That he believed she could do something important and exciting with her life. But even though she turned, every time, it was never him.

About an hour into the event, Jane spotted a man with a big camera on his shoulder following a woman in a red dress with stiff hair. TV news? It seemed likely. Jane sidled up behind the cameraman to listen to the reporter’s take on the event.

“The folks inside aren’t letting the weather, or the protesters, dampen their enthusiasm for this worthy cause.” The reporter’s face only moved slightly as she spoke, her eyebrows frozen in a look of mild astonishment.

Protesters?

 
“Excuse me.” A man tugged Jane’s elbow. “Will there be real food here tonight?”

“What? Yes, of course.” Jane squinted towards the kitchen. Some kind of sandwich-and-salad thing was supposed to be coming out before the night was over. “Just give it a few minutes, okay?” She gave him a quick nod and slid away through the crowd. She opened the door a crack and peered into the hallway.

A dozen hippies and punks and hipsters were gathered in the hall with tattered cardboard signs. The sleet had battered them on their way into the event, but their message was clear. And so was the person in charge.

Rose of Sharon Willis.

The “Helpers” had arrived.

Jane scratched her head. The Human Liberation Party was all about eating right, but what was wrong with smoothies? Or educating homeless preschoolers? Jane slipped out of the door so she could hear better.

Rose of Sharon stood on top of an old-fashioned soapbox, her banged-up red megaphone at her lips. The hubbub in the crowd made it hard to hear, but Jane made out a few choice sentiments.

“We’re not baby COWS! We’re NOT baby cows! WE’RE not baby cows!” The emphasis was on a different word each time, but the point was clear. Rose of Sharon had a problem with milk. Rose of Sharon turned on her box and seemed to catch Jane’s eye. “Are YOU a baby cow?”

Jane wanted to duck and cover, but instead, she shook her head no.

“That’s a good girl!” Rose of Sharon spun on her box to call out to a janitor that was passing by.

Jane exhaled slowly. HLP wasn’t doing any harm. They hadn’t prevented anyone from getting to the fundraiser. Kids would get their preschool, and that’s what was important.

Rose of Sharon dragged her soapbox right in front of the door and pushed it open. Megaphone to mouth, she began her favorite protest song. “I like to eat apples and bananas.”

Jane sidled through the crowd, but couldn’t get past the soapbox. Jake hovered near the door, just on the other side, and she managed to catch his eye.

He pulled a chair up to the doorway and stood eye to eye with Rose of Sharon. “What do you have against the children, Rose? What did they ever do to you?”

Jane was pushed aside as the reporter and her cameraman took her spot near the action.

Rose of Sharon’s thin, leathery face was beet red. “Why are you poisoning the children? Why are you using the children to poison the city? We thought you’d learned your lesson, Crawford. We thought you’d changed your ways, but you keep trying to kill us!”

“I’d kill for a hamburger right about now, that’s true,” Jake said with a smirk that was captured on the reporter’s camera. In fact, Jake was turned towards the camera on purpose, as far as Jane could tell.

“You’ll kill us all if you don’t quit forcing your animal products on our fragile bodies.”

 
Jake cupped his hands around his mouth like he was going to begin his own chant, but Jane shook her head.

Jake shrugged and stepped off of the chair, his eyes narrowed.

Jane managed to wheedle her way through the crowd to Jake.

“I’m not trying to kill people, Jane. Just trying to help out your cousin’s charity.” Jake lowered his voice.

“I know, Jake, I know.” Jane turned to Rose of Sharon. “Listen, Rose, can you take this outside? I don’t want to have to call security, but I will if I need to.”

“But you’re not a baby cow!”

“Of course I’m not, Rose. But…it’s not like it’s high-fructose corn syrup, right?”

Jake cleared his throat.

“Never mind.”

Jane dragged Jake back to the table of smoothie samples. The party had begun to deteriorate.

A red-faced man with a bald head yelled at a younger, taller man in a suit.

A woman with bobbed black hair pushed another woman with bobbed black hair out of her way.

A man in a sweater with leather patches on the sleeves punched one of the hippies holding the door open. Punched him right in the face.

Then a woman screamed.

Jane froze. The room went completely silent.

Jake climbed back on his chair so he could see over the top of the crowd. “Who was that? Does anyone know who that was? Is everyone okay?” His voice had turned serious, manly, and in charge. She had never seen him like that before. Not once. “This event was meant to benefit the most vulnerable children in our community. It was not meant to insult our friends who believe in a different way of eating, or to harm anyone. That scream sounded like someone was really hurt. Everyone look around, and holler if someone near you has been injured.”

A low murmur spread across the room, then another woman screamed.

The crowd jumped to life, and Jake pushed his way through the people with Jane right behind him.

A woman in a denim skirt and Christmas sweater knelt beside another woman, who lay on the ground, a pool of blood forming on her sweater.

The woman kneeling on the floor rocked back and forth, sobbing.

Jake checked the pulse of the injured woman. “Jane, call 911.”

Jane pressed the phone to her ear and ducked through the crowd. She told them what little she knew: injured, bleeding, unconscious, and where they were located, and then she hung up. She needed to breathe.

The volume in the packed room had gone back to a loud roar. A man in a red-and-green Christmas sweater whose head was just above, and almost directly over, Jane’s own kept shouting, “No, let’s go home NOW.” Jane tried to maneuver around him, but the woman he was shouting at reached for him and caught Jane in her arms.

“Excuse me,” Jane whispered.

“Well!” The woman kept a tight grip on the sweater man with one hand, but let Jane go free.

The room had seemed pleasantly full when the party was new, but with everyone jostling to get out but being repulsed by the protesters, and the fear and yelling, it was a bedlam that made Jane’s head spin.

“Excuse me!” Rose of Sharon had climbed up on the table full of smoothie samples. “EXCUSE ME!”

The room simmered to a low boil.

“It has come to my attention that someone in this room has been seriously injured. I have taken the responsibility to keep everyone present in the situation. No one has left the room through the main door. The paramedics will be here as soon as they can—any minute. I need everyone to take a seat along the walls, leaving a center aisle through the room to the injured party, do you understand?”

The people seemed to want a leader, and though they murmured in frustration, they shuffled to the sides of the room, and some people even sat down.

“Thank you.”

Jane jerked her head up. Rose of Sharon had thanked them?

“In times of crisis, people need to come together and work with their enemies for the greater good. Because we are here protesting, it is of utmost importance that the authorities arrive to a calm scene. Any kind of chaos and my friends and I will be arrested.”

“Let them be arrested!” a deep voice from the back of the room interrupted her.

“Yeah!” A throaty female voice joined his.

Jake hopped up on the table with Rose of Sharon, though Jane hadn’t seen how he got there. “That’s enough. For better or worse, the lady is right. We need to be calm so that the medics can treat the injured woman as quickly as possible. Right now, I’d like to know if someone can tell me who she is.”