Read Online Bright New Murder by Traci Tyne Hilton - Free Book Online
Authors: Traci Tyne Hilton
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the party out.
She headed to Maywood, the little suburban city just outside of town where the Crawford family restaurant business had its main offices. Most likely Jake would be in his office working midday on Thursday. They could shut the door of his office and have a nice long chat about that guest list of his.
***
Jane climbed the stairs to the offices on top of the second-to-last Roly Burger restaurant. She knocked and then let herself in. She had a twinge of fear, but Marjory, Jake’s intimidating aunt, was not at the desk.
The girl at the desk was much younger than Marjory.
And very cute.
Jane sniffed. Curly blonde hair. Freckles. An upturned nose? Really? Jane wondered if the girl could type, but then noticed that the girl was typing—and talking on the phone at the same time—both at lightning speed. The girl looked up for a second and nodded towards a row of chairs against the wall.
Jane almost sat, but reminded herself that she was a private detective, not the maid, this time.
She ignored the receptionist and pushed open Jake’s office door.
Before she could say hello, a man in the chair opposite Jake stood up, pushing his chair into Jane’s knees. “I think you’re going to regret this, Crawford.”
Jake’s face was brilliant red. His shoulders were up to his ears, and a vein on his neck was throbbing. “And I think you are overreacting. When you are ready to talk man-to-man, I’ll be here.”
Jane scooted to the wall next to the door. Jake’s eyes were glued to the angry man, and he didn’t acknowledge her.
The angry man snarled—or at least that was the best word Jane could come up with. It was a businesslike kind of snarl. Very television drama. He pushed his way out the door, stomping so loudly they could still hear him on the stairs.
“Jane.” Jake stared out the door. “That was the mayor of Maywood, and he wants junk food blue laws in our gentle little town.”
“He’s not a Helper, is he?”
“Not that he admits to.” Jake took a seat—on top of his desk. “You, however, are a sight for sore eyes. What can I do for you?”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I want the guest list to the fundraiser. Not the official one though, the augmented one. The one you filled out that has pretty much everyone on it.”
Jake furrowed his brow. “I could do that for you.”
“But?”
“But you’d have to do something for me in return.”
“Of course I would.” Jane sat down in the chair the angry mayor had so violently vacated.
“Move to Maywood.”
“Excuse me?”
“Move to this cute little suburban mini-town so you can vote against the blue laws, and so I can come see you as often as I want without giving your cousin the wrong idea.”
Jane laughed. “Don’t be a dope, Jake. I can’t abandon Gemma. She can hardly afford half the rent on the apartment, much less the whole thing.”
“And whose fault is that? Not yours. Certainly not mine. Why should I have to suffer?”
“Okay, enough of that. Can I have the list?”
“Sure.” Jake made a show of digging his phone out of his desk. He frowned, rubbed his forehead, and typed on the touch screen for a few minutes. “Done. I just sent you the list of people I invited via text, and the folks who RSVP’d. I also sent my own notes on who I saw at the party who hadn’t let me know they were coming.”
“Wow. Really? You had time to take those notes?”
Jake shrugged. “I’ve got to make the time. Money doesn’t make itself. I’ve already sent thank-you cards to everyone who was there. Ah!” He banged on his phone a bit more. “There you go. That’s the address list I sent the thank you’s too. It wasn’t anything big this year, just a personally signed card and a book of gift certificates. And yes, I have to keep tabs on all of that. It’s tax deductible—I hope.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I wasn’t just voted most popular, back in high school. I was also president of Young Entrepreneurs.”
“You
She headed to Maywood, the little suburban city just outside of town where the Crawford family restaurant business had its main offices. Most likely Jake would be in his office working midday on Thursday. They could shut the door of his office and have a nice long chat about that guest list of his.
***
Jane climbed the stairs to the offices on top of the second-to-last Roly Burger restaurant. She knocked and then let herself in. She had a twinge of fear, but Marjory, Jake’s intimidating aunt, was not at the desk.
The girl at the desk was much younger than Marjory.
And very cute.
Jane sniffed. Curly blonde hair. Freckles. An upturned nose? Really? Jane wondered if the girl could type, but then noticed that the girl was typing—and talking on the phone at the same time—both at lightning speed. The girl looked up for a second and nodded towards a row of chairs against the wall.
Jane almost sat, but reminded herself that she was a private detective, not the maid, this time.
She ignored the receptionist and pushed open Jake’s office door.
Before she could say hello, a man in the chair opposite Jake stood up, pushing his chair into Jane’s knees. “I think you’re going to regret this, Crawford.”
Jake’s face was brilliant red. His shoulders were up to his ears, and a vein on his neck was throbbing. “And I think you are overreacting. When you are ready to talk man-to-man, I’ll be here.”
Jane scooted to the wall next to the door. Jake’s eyes were glued to the angry man, and he didn’t acknowledge her.
The angry man snarled—or at least that was the best word Jane could come up with. It was a businesslike kind of snarl. Very television drama. He pushed his way out the door, stomping so loudly they could still hear him on the stairs.
“Jane.” Jake stared out the door. “That was the mayor of Maywood, and he wants junk food blue laws in our gentle little town.”
“He’s not a Helper, is he?”
“Not that he admits to.” Jake took a seat—on top of his desk. “You, however, are a sight for sore eyes. What can I do for you?”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I want the guest list to the fundraiser. Not the official one though, the augmented one. The one you filled out that has pretty much everyone on it.”
Jake furrowed his brow. “I could do that for you.”
“But?”
“But you’d have to do something for me in return.”
“Of course I would.” Jane sat down in the chair the angry mayor had so violently vacated.
“Move to Maywood.”
“Excuse me?”
“Move to this cute little suburban mini-town so you can vote against the blue laws, and so I can come see you as often as I want without giving your cousin the wrong idea.”
Jane laughed. “Don’t be a dope, Jake. I can’t abandon Gemma. She can hardly afford half the rent on the apartment, much less the whole thing.”
“And whose fault is that? Not yours. Certainly not mine. Why should I have to suffer?”
“Okay, enough of that. Can I have the list?”
“Sure.” Jake made a show of digging his phone out of his desk. He frowned, rubbed his forehead, and typed on the touch screen for a few minutes. “Done. I just sent you the list of people I invited via text, and the folks who RSVP’d. I also sent my own notes on who I saw at the party who hadn’t let me know they were coming.”
“Wow. Really? You had time to take those notes?”
Jake shrugged. “I’ve got to make the time. Money doesn’t make itself. I’ve already sent thank-you cards to everyone who was there. Ah!” He banged on his phone a bit more. “There you go. That’s the address list I sent the thank you’s too. It wasn’t anything big this year, just a personally signed card and a book of gift certificates. And yes, I have to keep tabs on all of that. It’s tax deductible—I hope.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I wasn’t just voted most popular, back in high school. I was also president of Young Entrepreneurs.”
“You
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