Killer Calling: A Plain Jane Mystery (A Cozy Christian Collection) (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 7) Read online

  Killer Calling

  A Plain Jane Mystery

  Traci Tyne Hilton

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Traci Tyne Hilton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  This is a tricky one.” Flora handed a slim folder to Jane. “The client is panicking.”

  Jane Adler—recently married to Jake Crawford but as yet to have changed her name—sat across from Flora in the cluttered office of the Senior Corps of Retired Investigators. Driving rain from the day’s storm smeared the drafty window. The heater had clicked on moments before with the dusty, but cozy, odor shared by all old buildings. She pulled her sweater a little tighter and opened the folder. It held a one-page dossier and an itinerary from Travelocity. At first glance, she saw nothing shocking. “What’s the problem?”

  “Teenagers.” Flora chuckled, but after the last case, Jane wasn’t so sure teenage problems were funny.

  “Have you heard of the Trives family?”

  “The name’s familiar.” Jane scanned the dossier again.

  “It should be. They run an investment bank, and their name is on several buildings. Also, they participate in most of the major ministries in town. Victor and Lorraine Trives are passionate about the gospel.”

  “Yes! I know who you mean now. The little library at my old Bible school was the Trives Room.”

  “That sounds about right. The Trives have one daughter, Tory. Tory, for the last three years, has been outright hostile to anything having to do with God.”

  “Ouch.” The single sheet of information about the Trives family also said Tory’s volleyball team was the state champion and that she had had early acceptance to Pepperdine, but dropped out after one semester.

  “It’s to be expected. The poor girl is under a lot of pressure in this town. Everyone expects her to follow in the family footsteps, making and giving a lot of money. In my opinion, she’s handling it fine, but my opinion doesn’t matter.” Flora had the age and experience to give weight to her opinion on teenagers.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “She has a new boyfriend, and they’re going on a mission trip to Mexico next week.”

  “But that’s great news!” Jane flipped to the itinerary. Two round-trip tickets to Los Angeles.

  “I agree, but Mr. Trives doesn’t. This new boyfriend has a Mohawk, tattoos, and he plays bass in a rock band.”

  “So…he’s a youth pastor?”

  Flora laughed. “No, he’s a professional musician in a band. And he’s a little older.”

  A little older. That hit a nerve with Jane. She could see, Mohawk aside, why Daddy Trives might worry.

  “Mr. Trives believes completely that the only reason a tattooed, Mohawked thug—his words, not mine—would go to Mexico for a week is to smuggle drugs under the innocent guise of mission work.” She sighed. “I think there’s a high probability that he’s worried over nothing, but as always, we need to treat the case with the same level of concern that the client does.”

  “Is that why it’s tricky? Because odds are she’s met a nice boy who has gotten her interested in Jesus again.”

  “Exactly. Odds are there is nothing going on that anyone has to worry about. Nonetheless, Mr. Trives has hired us to catch the boyfriend in action and protect Tory. It’s impossible to prove a negative, Jane, so if this punk isn’t smuggling drugs, the job is a whole lot harder than if he is. And if he is smuggling drugs from Mexico, you have the cartel to worry about.”

  Jane stared at Flora. All she could think of when she heard Mexican drug cartel was kidnappings, murders, and mass graves.

  “The mission trip is a high school and college group from Freedom Faith Church—the exceptionally large one just outside of town. They are taking two weeks, so the kids going had to get time off of school. You’ll fit in with that age group better than I would, so we’re sending you.”

  “But it’s not likely to be drugs, I mean, the odds are just super against it.” Jane ran her finger up and down the folder. It sounded like the easiest hard job ever.

  “I agree. If I thought there was any risk of you confronting a drug cartel, I wouldn’t send you.”

  Jane exhaled. “Okay.”

  “But like I said, if they aren’t there to smuggle drugs, you are going to have to prove it. Mr. Trives is a good man, but a hard one. It won’t be easy.”

  “I see a ticket for Jake, too.”

  “Mr. Trives was very generous with the expenses. If Jake can’t go, it’s okay. But if he can, I think he’d be a real asset. You make a good team.”

  “I expect he can, but I’ll ask.” A well of pure happiness bubbled up in Jane. Flora was right. There wasn’t much chance that the lovebirds had hitched a ride with a mission trip so they could smuggle drugs. She and Jake could buddy up with Tory and the new boyfriend, get to know them a little, and find out what had changed Tory’s heart. That part would be simple. Then they could all focus on the ministry work and escaping the November rain.

  It was like the world’s perfect case. There was no way things could go wrong.

  Travel to Mexico went as well as could be expected. Short plane ride, long drive. A good chance to observe and take notes, if nothing else.

  The new boyfriend looked more than a little older. Chase McBane was short and stocky in a well-muscled way. He had a thick head of wiry black hair that he styled into a faux-hawk and stubble to match. If he was a day under twenty-five, Jane would be shocked.

  She was shocked, anyway, but not just by his age. McBane wasn’t a punk Portland kid in a band. McBane was bass player for Rest from War—the most recent Christian band to have a single go viral with both Christian and secular audiences. Rest from War was kind of a big deal.

  Jake and Chase seemed to hit if off right away, but Jane was hit hard by motion sickness. She attempted to introduce herself to Tory, to listen to the guy talk Jake and Chase were enjoying, but her stomach failed her. She took two little motion sickness pills and attempted to sleep.

  When they finally arrived at the orphanage she dragged herself and her bags to the girls’ dorm accommodations. She tried to keep up with the team but it was challenge.

  Tory Trives threw her duffel bag on a top bunk and herself on a bottom. “We’re done for the day, right?” She sounded beat.

  “We’re all meeting downstairs in the common room for a little supper and some instructions,” one of the other team members, a girl who seemed older, offered.

  Tory pressed her hands over her eyes. “It’s after eleven.” There was a plaintive whine in her voice, but her body language was screaming exhaustion.

  Some people didn’t travel well, and it looked like Tory and Jane were both on that unfortunate team.

  Jane
sat on the edge of another bottom bunk. She was awake, but just barely. A cool wind blew through the open window, refreshing after the hours in the closed up van with twelve youth and young adults.

  She didn’t even have the energy to wish she could hole away with Jake and make a plan of action. All she wanted was to sleep, and never look at food again. She took a deep breath and braced herself. “I’m with you, Tory, but we’d better go. If we don’t they might sign us up for toilet duty.”

  “You have a point.” Tory pulled herself to her feet with a groan. “If you can do it, I can.” She offered Jane a hand. “I thought you were going to lose your lunch several times. I was so relieved when you fell asleep.”

  “Oh man, so was I.” Jane followed Tory down to the common room. “It’s been a while since I’ve travelled. I don’t remember it being that bad when I was in youth group.”

  “It’s hard to get old.” There was a sympathetic tone to Tory’s words that stung.

  The team leader, Owen, stood in the center of a ring of folding chairs and the rest of the team, whom Jane had met on the plane, took their seats. Jake was sitting with Chase, laughing.

  Jane lingered behind them, hoping to listen in without being noticed.

  It didn’t work. Chase jumped up. “Sit down, please.” He waved at the seat he had just vacated. “Your husband is dying for your company.”

  Jake’s eyes were showing signs of wear, but he smiled. Perhaps dying for bed, but not for company.

  Jane sat.

  “So you’ve been married, what, a year?” Chase asked.

  “Just a couple of months.” Jake put his arm over the back of the plaid couch.

  Jane settled against him and closed her eyes. Must. Stay. Awake. Must observe. Must deduce. She yawned.

  “Thanks for coming downstairs.” Owen’s voice woke Jane up, just a little. “I know it’s very late, but you need to know two important things before tomorrow, and since you’re here to learn those two things, I can tell you three or four less urgent, but still useful, things.” He laughed.

  No one else did, though Jake smiled.

  There were two teams at the orphanage for the next two weeks. The team Jane and Jake had tagged along with was made up of a handful of older teens and college kids from Faith Freedom, one of Portland’s mega churches. The other team was smaller and from a private school in little town called Kelseyville, California. But no matter where they were from, everyone had the same punch drunk, travel weary bleary eyes and posture.

  “First and most important, the showers and bathrooms in the men’s dorm building are out of commission. We are very sorry, but we had a deferred maintenance issue that couldn’t be deferred any longer, and since our two groups are small, and short on men, the staff here decided now was the right time to do the work. So, men, you will be using the downstairs shower in the girls’ dorm. Ladies, you get the upstairs. Second, breakfast is at 6:30, so you aren’t getting much sleep tonight anyway. It’s early mornings, but since we came here to serve, sleep would just be wasting our time, yes?” He laughed again.

  “Gotcha.” Chase nodded approval. He seemed so eager and positive. Unless he was a great actor and this was a total front, Jane couldn’t see how Mr. Trives got a dangerous punk vibe from the Rest from War bassist.

  “And the slightly less important things. Don’t be late for your early breakfast. The orphanage will assign daily duties while you eat. A few of the staffers speak English, and they will be the ones working with you in the morning. That’s your shot to ask questions because they go at it and go hard all day long. You might not catch them later if you decide to sleep in. And finally, we have chapel with the families every night. It’s voluntary attendance, so not every family comes every night, but it’s one of your best chances to get to hang out with the kids and to connect with the house parents who live here. The English-speaking staff will be around to translate. We meet in the volunteer lounge which you will find on the other side of the cafeteria.”

  Tory stood up. “Got it. Is that all?”

  Owen consulted a paper. “Yes. The volunteer director would have met us here and given us the info himself, but not at this hour. If we eat at 6:30 you can only imagine what time they get up to get the meal ready for us.” He folded the paper and slipped it into his jacket. “I’m bushed. Let’s hit the hay.”

  Jake kissed Jane’s cheek. “See you in the morning.” He followed Owen to the men’s side of the dorm.

  Jane followed Tory back to their room and crashed. She thought about praying for energy and focus for the next morning but was dead to the world before she could turn her intention into action.

  2

  Breakfast came early, but it was hot and delicious. Simple scrambled eggs and refried beans served with tortillas. Jane was rolling up her third when a handsome young man with thick black hair and dreamy eyes rapped a spoon on his coffee cup and got the attention of the group.

  “Buenos Días.” He smiled, but his eyes were moody, sad almost. “Bienvenidos a la Casa de Esperanza.” All eyes were on him. “Good morning. Welcome to the House of Hope. I’m Miguel, and I’m here with your work assignments.” He continued his warm welcome by giving out assignments for the day.

  Jane’s first job at the orphanage—well, her first not-spying-on-Tory job—was in the preschool.

  After breakfast and assignments and a commissioning style prayer send off, she found herself in a charming cement block building brightly painted and filled with happy young children.

  She sat with a table of little girls, coloring pictures. The five girls had luminous black eyes, and black hair that also seemed to glow. Their tanned faces ranged from olive to coffee, and every one of them looked like the cover of a magazine. Little Pilar giggled into her fist and hid her picture. Monica turned red and looked around to see if any adults were watching, and then giggled too. The picture that had caused the laughter, as far as Jane could tell, was of a family, but all of the boys were standing on their heads.

  “Que paso?” She had worked hard in college on her Spanish, but found herself at a loss for words more often than not. Pilar crumpled her picture up, laughing harder, her eyes closed and her cheeks pink from the effort. “Nada, nada, nada.” She took a deep breath, and started another picture.

  The kids lived in big families in the orphanage, house parents caring for up to ten kids each, aged three to thirteen. Babies lived in the nursery, or cuna as they called it in Spanish. The teenagers moved to boys’ and girls’ dorms with a new set of house parents on their fourteenth birthday.

  All of the kids Jane had met so far seemed happy and well adjusted. The first day on the job was turning out to be a real pleasure, coloring with the little girls, playing on the playground, but she wasn’t working anywhere near Tory or Chase, and she was itching to find the evidence she needed to prove that Tory was really and truly born again and serving God.

  The school bell that the orphanage used to mark the day’s schedule rang cheerfully in the distance, announcing lunch.

  “Pack it up, kiddos.” Jane smiled and gathered up crayons. The kids had no idea what she was saying, but they knew what she was doing, and followed suit.

  Lunch was served family style in a small cafeteria for the volunteers. The children ate with their mothers in their own houses.

  Jane and Jake sat with their quarry. After a bilingual blessing by Miguel, the full-time volunteer coordinator, they passed around beans, tortillas, and cheese. A modest, but appreciated lunch.

  “How’s life in the baby nursery?” Chase asked his girlfriend.

  Tory’s eyes were half closed, and shadowed with thick, black liner. She shrugged. “Fine.”

  “It can’t still be too early.” Chase’s tone was teasing. He stuffed half his burrito into his mouth at once.

  “Jet lag,” Jake offered. “I travel a lot for work and it can take a day or two to catch up.”

  “Baja is the same time zone as Portland.” Jane nibbled her lunch and tried not
to stare at Tory. Could she be using drugs while caring for the babies? That would be worse than awful, but it would explain the lack of eye contact and change in personality from yesterday.

  “Tory was in New York a day and a half ago.” Chase patted her back.

  She leaned into him and yawned. “So. Tired.” Her words were mumbled.

  “You should go lie down.” Jane wished Tory would look up. Red, bloodshot eyes would be a sign of drug use, right?

  “Agreed,” Chase said. “You should go sleep. Let the regular staff take care of the babies.”

  Tory shook her head. “I came to help. Just give me more coffee. There are babies who need snuggling, and I’m going to do it.” These were the most words Jane had heard from her today, and they had clearly taken a good deal of effort.

  Jane pondered the words. They weren’t exactly emotionless, but they weren’t enthusiastic either. Did she really want to snuggle babies? If she was using wouldn’t she want that time alone in her dorm room to use more drugs? That’s what people on drugs did, wasn’t it? Get alone and get high? Jane realized her education was lacking in regards to how drug users functioned. She’d have to resolve that somehow. Maybe there was a book she could read.

  “How are the big kids doing?” Jake asked her.

  “Adorable and silly. Giggles and crayons are pretty much international. You guys have been working on the new classroom?”

  “Yup,” Chase responded. “Mixing cement and stacking blocks for foundation and walls. Makes me appreciate things like wood and nails.”

  “It’s heavy work for a skinny guy like me,” Jake said. “But it goes up pretty fast all things considered. Things being lack of cement mixing machines and trained crews to do the work.”

  Chase let a belly laugh loose that reminded Jane of her old uncle. “Jake and I are not the biggest and strongest our country has to offer, that’s God’s honest truth.” Chase was twice as thick as Jake and all muscle, but he was no taller, only about 5 feet 8 or 9. “It’s going to get hotter this afternoon. I’ll be glad for the siesta hour.” He stretched his arms out, and then draped one over Tory.