Good, Clean Murder (22 page)

She twisted the
handle of the master bedroom door, but couldn’t bring herself to open it.

A small squeal
came from inside the room and roused Jane into action. She shoved the door
open. It hit the wall with a bang.

Someone with
thinning hair, wearing a shabby gray suit, had Phoebe pinned against the
bathroom door. Phoebe’s hands scratched at his neck.

“What are you
doing?” Jane yelled as loud as she could, hoping to draw some attention to the
room.

Fitch spun
around and stared at Jane.

Phoebe wriggled
her way out from behind him.

The last thing
Jane had expected to find was the fully forty-year-old Fitch trying to have his
way with the barely legal daughter of the deceased.

“I can’t tell
you, Jane. Five thousand dollars are on the line.” Phoebe tugged at her dress
trying to put it all back in place.

“Fitch—explain
yourself before I call the cops.” Jane wondered how far away the police were
right now.

“You wouldn’t.”
Phoebe made puppy eyes at Jane.

“The police
aren’t here?” Fitch’s eyes darted to the window. “I thought I heard them.”

“Phoebe, I saw
him trying to-trying to…” Jane looked down at the floor. Phoebe’s face was
blotched red and the already low neckline of her dress had been pulled far
enough down to exposure her slip.

“Trying to rape
me, Jane? Is that word too icky for you to say?”

“I wasn’t! I
swear that’s not what I was doing!” Fitch stepped farther away from Phoebe, and
bumped into the Crawfords’ mattress.

“Then explain
yourself. What are you doing down here?”
And did the sound of police siren
make you head here?

“I just needed a
little comfort, Jane. People need people at times like this.” Phoebe batted her
eyes at Fitch.

He turned
violently red and looked away.

“That’s enough,
Phoebe. Fitch—I’ve got my finger on the phone. If you can’t explain this I’m
dialing 911.” Jane held her phone out like a gun.

“She—I—She—I—” Fitch
stammered.

“That’s it.”
Jane moved the phone to her ear.

“No!” Phoebe
screamed. Her face contorted as though she were trying to pull her scream back
inside of herself. “Jane, don’t do it.” This time she spoke in a wheedling
voice. “Some things need to be resolved, just, like, in the family, you know?”

Fitch inched his
way towards the door.

Jane stuck her
foot out and stopped him from scooting any further.

“You know what?
I’m not entirely sure what I saw.” Jane shut the door. She tried to scroll
through her numbers casually, but her hand was shaking hard. She found Jake’s
number first and hit send.

“Let’s see if we
can think of three reasons for Fitch to be down here, shall we?” Jane leaned on
the door to steady herself. “Maybe he needed a rest? Or did he follow the
pretty girl in here? Or maybe there was something else in the room that he
remembered when he heard the police sirens.”

Fitch’s face
blanched.

“Sorry, Jane,
you’re wrong on point two. I followed him in. It just seemed very odd, you
know, for the guy who orders new fry baskets to be coming in to my dead
parents’ bedroom.”

“I agree. That
is very odd.”

Fitch let out an
exaggerated yawn.

Jake answered
his call, so Jane spoke in a louder voice, the phone still by her ear.

“No, sorry, that
won’t do it, Fitch. I saw the…energy you had earlier, with Phoebe in your arms.
I don’t think you are tired. Hi, Jake. Care to join a family pow-wow in the
master bedroom?”

“No, Fitch, you
aren’t tired at all, are you?” Phoebe winked at him.

“Phoebe, I don’t
know what you are hiding, but I don’t believe you came in here to snog Fitch,
so you can drop that act.”

Fitch shut his
mouth. He narrowed his eyes, but wouldn’t look at Jane. His face was pasty,
shaven poorly, and puffy from too many Roly-Poly burgers. He had a thick
middle, but skinny legs. He didn’t look like a man driven by animal passions.
His face was damp with sweat, and it smelled like fear.

“I think you
wanted something in this room, but Phoebe followed you. You might have been
overcome with passion, she does look really pretty this afternoon, but I think
you were just trying to stop her or keep her quiet or something.” The doorknob
twisted behind Jane so she stepped aside.

“Hey, guys.”
Jake stepped into the room. “Thanks for inviting me to the shindig.”

“Don’t worry,
Jake, I haven’t said a word.” Phoebe held a finger up to her lips.

“It’s okay,
Phoebe. Whatever you saw, you can tell us.” Jake smiled at his sister, his eyes
wide and innocent.

“Fitch, my
brother offered me five-thousand dollars. Can you top that?”

“Offered for
what?” Fitch flexed his hands open and shut.

“For silence, of
course. For five-thousand dollars, what I saw gets no farther than this room.
For ten, I won’t even say it now.”

“But I don’t
have that much money.” Fitch’s voice came out as a low moan.

“So she did see
something.” Jake rubbed his hands together. “You know, Jane, I really didn’t
think she had. I just wanted her to shut up about hating mom.”

“I have an idea
about what she saw, Jake. What about you?”

“Oh I have an
idea too. A man who wouldn’t order all new kitchen equipment for a poor orphan
boy is capable of just about anything.”

“Jake, Fitch
came in here to get something when Phoebe surprised him.”

“Is that so?”

“Very much so.”
Jane gripped her phone in her hand. She wished with all her heart she would
stop shaking.

“And Phoebe saw
something that Fitch wishes she wouldn’t say.”

“That much seems
obvious.”

Fitch was
sweating copiously now, his hands still working nervously. He hadn’t taken his
eyes off of Phoebe for several minutes.

“Well, Jane, you
know this room, heck, this whole house, better than any of the rest of us. What
do you think he wants?”

“Only one thing
comes to mind. I think he wants the bottle of potassium pills that is a little
emptier than it should be.”

Fitch dashed for
the open door knocking Jane to the wall. He pushed Jake into the hall and ran
for the stairs.

The sound of
running feet echoed down the hall and Isaac flashed past them all. He stretched
out his foot in a side kick and tripped Fitch as he reached the front
staircase.

Fitch slammed
into the banister.

The front door
groaned open. “Jane?” Stanley Adler stood in the doorway. “Oh! There you are,
perfect. This business with your car is taking forever and the police have more
questions. I’ve been trying to call your cell.”

Jane smiled at
her dad. Her good old dad. “I’m coming.” She ran down the steps, the beatitudes
popping into her head, yet again.
Blessed are those who mourn
. It wasn’t
what followed Biblically, but the mourners were blessed today, for they were
about to get some justice.

Isaac and Jake
each took one of Fitch’s arms and led him down to the police.

“We’ve got a few
questions about this registration,” the officer said to Jane. She scrunched her
face up, the sound of her father’s voice saying, “You bought a used car
online?” echoed through her memory.

Jake stepped up
to the officer. “Excuse me, I need your help.” He tugged Fitch beside him.
Isaac kept Fitch’s other arm in his grip. “This man was tampering with
evidence.”

“Repeat that?”
The officer said.

“Nothing of the
kind.” Phoebe lowered her eyelids and looked up at the cop. “It’s just that my
brother…he walked in on…”

“Please, Phoebe,
not now.” Jane placed a hand on Phoebe’s arm. “Let’s get the truth out, no
matter how ugly it is.”

Phoebe chewed on
her lip and then turned her eyes to the ground.

“See, there’s a
reception upstairs, right now, for Bob and Marjory Crawford and I think they
were murdered,” Jane said. “From the beginning it just didn’t seem right, their
deaths. They were too young.”

“According to
the autopsy, they were a little bruised like there might have been a light
altercation,” Jake offered.

“And when I was
looking at their medicine I saw that some of the potassium pills were missing.
More were gone than should have been.”

The officer
stared at Jane with a bored expression on his face.

“Phoebe saw
something but won’t tell us what, and Fitch was sneaking into the bedroom,”
Jake said

“He heard the
police sirens and headed to the bedroom where the pills were kept. Phoebe
caught him and when I found them he was, I don’t know. What would you say you
were doing?”

Fitch looked at
the ground. “I was just trying to stop her from making a scene.”

“What were you
doing in the bedroom during the reception?” The officer asked, one eyebrow
lifted.

“I was—” Fitch
looked up at the officer, and then clamped his mouth shut.

“Come on,
Phoebe, just tell us what you saw,” Jake said.

Phoebe took a
deep breath. “I didn’t used to hate my mom.”

The cop didn’t
turn away from Fitch.

“But one
morning, I had come over early to get some clothes and I saw her put a pill in
a cup of coffee. Dad hadn’t been feeling well, the heart thing, and I thought
she was trying to make him worse. I was so mad.”

“That’s all you
saw?” Fitch lifted his face.

“Then I saw her
bring the cup to dad. He tasted it and said it was gross again, so I knew she
had done it before. Neither of them saw me. I kind of snuck around all morning
until I saw mom go back to her bedroom. She had put a bottle of pills on her
dresser. She never keeps her pills there.”

“No, she never
does!” Jane added.

“Who are you?”
The cop turned to Jane.

“I’m the
housekeeper.”

The officer
nodded and turned back to Fitch.

Fitch was
growing redder as Phoebe spoke.

“So I saw those
pills there and figured they were the ones mom had put in the coffee.”

“It was the
potassium, wasn’t it?” Jane asked.

“Yes. I looked
them up later. They’re deadly to someone with a heart condition.”

“They weren’t
supposed to die!” Fitch blurted out. “No one was supposed to die.”

“Repeat that?”
The officer said.

“No one was
supposed to die. We read everything we could. Weak, yes. Feeling unwell, yes.
Not up to making big decisions? Yes! But no one was supposed to die.”

Fitch looked around
the crowd, eyes darting between Stan, Phoebe and the officers.

“I think you’d
better come with us,” the officer said.

“It was Pamela’s
idea—just to keep him under the weather for a while, to give him time to think
his decision over. I didn’t know it would kill him! I didn’t know she would
die.”

“Can someone
tell me how she died?” the second officer asked.

“According to
the autopsy, she had a heart attack, probably caused by a lifetime of eating
hamburgers and then having a light, physical altercation with her very large
husband. I’m guessing he didn’t want to be poisoned.”

“Gotcha.” The
second officer turned away and spoke into a crackling walkie-talkie.

“Well done,
knowing Fitch was going to go get that bottle of pills,” Jake said to his
sister.

“Oh, no.” Phoebe
looked at her dark red fingernails. “I thought he was going to try and steal
mom’s jewelry. He just kind of looks like a thief.”

The first
officer took Fitch from Isaac and Jake and put him into the squad car with the
bald guy.

The second
officer gave Jake his card. “We’ll be wanting to talk to all of you very soon.
No one leaves town, okay?”

They all said
yes and nodded.

“And you—don’t
move that Volkswagen, understand? It’s a stolen vehicle.” He pointed up toward
the back driveway.

“Yes, sir, of
course.” Jane looked back at her car. It had been a very good deal, and her dad
had been completely against her buying it. Yet again, she should have listened
to him, however this time God had used her mistake to provide just what the
family needed.

Jane sat on the
edge of the king sized bed in her parents’ suite at the hotel.

“Your roommate
was both criminal and dangerous.” Stan stood near the window, his arms crossed
over his chest. His face was grim.

The room smelled
of commercial laundry detergent and fresh brewed coffee. Nancy ran an iron over
a pair of jeans while Jane listened to her father’s lecture.

“Your car was in
very poor shape, stolen, you were still paying the loan on it, and it smelled
atrocious.”

“Yes, Dad.” Jane
traced the gilded vine pattern that covered the duvet.
Deciding
to
listen to her parents had been hard. Actually doing it, and considering what
her dad had to say as he ran down every decision she had made in the last two
years, was even worse.

“But, you have
seven satisfied clients.”

Jane tilted her
head. “Yes?”

“I’ve made a few
calls. Everyone is very happy with your work. You are a good little business
woman.”

“Thank you.” She
glanced at her mom.

Nancy smiled at
her jeans as she ironed them.

“You handled
yourself well through this crisis.”

“Isaac really
helped me stick with it.”

Stanley grunted.
“You are a young lady who finishes what she starts.”

“Of course, Dad.
That’s what I always say.”

“Yes, you do.
Given that, I think you know that you need to stay here and finish school, but
you are moving out of the Crawford house immediately, do you understand?”

She looked back
down at the duvet. Sure, she understood it in theory, but that didn’t mean she
knew where she could go.

“I spoke with
Pastor Barnes and he is putting you up in the dorm for the rest of the term. I
paid the balance of your tuition, your book bill, and your room and board. I
don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Jane wasn’t
tempted to argue. Staying on campus and knowing where her meals were coming
from sounded divine.

“Before we leave
we are buying you a car.”

Jane picked at
her fingernail. She had avoided that one for years. And why? So she could feel
superior to the other girls at the prep school, like it had been somehow godlier
to earn her own stuff? “Thank you.” Her heart wasn’t behind her words yet, but
she said them.

“Now, this is
the important part, so pay attention. After term is up, you are coming to Phoenix.”

Jane’s jaw
dropped. “What?”

“We pay your way
through the end of this term, and then you come home.”

“But, Dad—”

“‘But, Dad’
nothing.” Stanley crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d like to see a little
gratitude from you right now.”

Gratitude wasn’t
flowing, but Jane’s blood was. She thrust herself to her feet, her face hot.
“Dad, I am a grown woman. I do not have to move out of state just because you
told me to.”

“You might be a
grown woman, but you have no car, you are homeless, and you just about got
yourself kicked out of Bible school.”

“Really, honey,
who does that?” Nancy flipped the jeans off the ironing board. “It just wasn’t
like you.”

“But what about
my seven satisfied clients?” Jane sat back down on the bed with a thud.

“You’re a good
business woman. A good business woman who will be without a home by May 25
^th
.”

Jane stared at
her father. May 25
^th
. Her date with Isaac.

“Business people
strike deals, Jane. Are you in, or out?”

Jane chewed her
lip. “Let me be clear on this deal: I go to Phoenix in May or?”

“Or you come
now.” Nancy slipped her arms into a fuzzy pink sweater. “I’m so sorry, but
things are a big mess here aren’t they?”

Jane looked out
the window behind her dad. Rain slashed at the glass, falling from the pewter
gray sky. “I can make it on my own here.”

“It’s because of
that Daniels fellow isn’t it?” Stan stared at Jane over the top of his glasses,
his jaw flexing.

Yes? No?
Jane wondered. Didn’t she want to stay here because she was established? There
were her clients to consider, and her church family, the people who would
eventually be sending her on the mission field.

Then there was
the mission field. Wouldn’t going to Phoenix slow her process down even more?
She’d have to meet all new people, prove that she was serious in her
intentions.

And then there
was Isaac. How serious were her intentions if she could let him distract her
from her goal?

Her trouble
following the school rules, the way she had kept her troubles to herself
instead of connecting with her parents and seeking help, and the overwhelming
sense that she was puffed up with pride rather than faith, had shown her that
her dream of heading to the foreign mission field was a bit farther in the
future than she had originally hoped.

“Leave her
alone, Stan. Isaac is a very nice young man.” Nancy folded up the ironing
board.

“I don’t want to
leave because Portland is home.” Jane scratched at the gold vine on the
bedspread again, but the shimmery color was in the thread, not painted on.

“You’ll have to
leave when you go on the mission field.” Stan’s voice had gone soft.

“I know.”

Nancy rubbed
Stan’s back. “Don’t worry about that yet, love.” She turned to Jane. “This
isn’t easy on your Dad, even if you are ‘all grown up’”

“Mom.” Jane
tried not to roll her eyes.

“Forget about
it, for now, okay?” Nancy kissed Stan’s cheek. “We’ve made you our offer. You
consider it, and tell us what you decide.

Jane looked away
from her parents. What was her choice, really? If she took them up on their
offer to pay for school she was obligated to move back with them, at least for
the summer. If she didn’t take the bargain she would fail to finish the school
she had put her heart and soul into.

She knew she
couldn’t quit school.

“Dad, did you
talk to Marjory before we left the reception?”

“Yes. She is
closing up the house and Jake and Phoebe are headed back to their dorm rooms
and apartments. Don’t worry about missing the Crawford paycheck, we’ll make
sure your ends meet.”

Jane flushed. “I
was just wondering what happened with Fitch?”

“He’s in custody
until the arraignment. They are talking manslaughter, I think. He planned the
poisoning with Pamela for the sake of keeping the hamburger restaurants in
business. The deaths weren’t planned. I believe him about that. He didn’t have
the spine or the imagination for murder.”

“But why
wouldn’t he want the family to run healthier restaurants?” Jane asked.

“Business is
rough, and there was no promise it would work out. I think Pamela was behind
the whole scheme, frankly. She liked the high life and turning the restaurants
into something with a lower profit margin and no guaranteed customers was too
risky.”

“It will be sad
when the restaurants are all gone,” Nancy said.

“I wouldn’t kill
for a hamburger, but it will be sad when they are gone,” Jane said with a grim
smile. “Do you want to risk another run in with the protestors and get a burger
for lunch?”

“Not on your
life.” Stan laughed.

“So, kids,” Nancy
said, “time to go car shopping?”

“Sorry, Mom. First
I have to go clean the Larsen house, but I can meet you wherever you want by
eleven.” It felt good to have that one last bit of autonomy: Good, Clean,
Houses. Her own business, where she was the boss. She didn’t like the bargain
her parents offered her, but she would have to make it work.

As she pictured
the rest of her school term, cleaning houses, studying, and
not
kissing
Isaac Daniels, the words of the beatitudes came to her mind again. Blessed are
they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied. Not a
promise from God to have all of her needs met by her parents who had means, but
a promise from God that
He
would satisfy her hunger for holiness, if
that was what she hungered for. Not independence, not adventure, just holiness.

May 25
^th.

She’d keep her date with Isaac, and
then fly to Phoenix. If he was waiting for her when she came back to Portland,
as she promised herself she would do, then she’d let him take her on a second
date too.