Health, Wealth, and Murder by Traci Tyne Hilton Read Free Book Online

into the page, while others were scribbled out so effectively the page had ripped under the force of the pen.
    Jane wrote “2/22” in the notebook she kept in her apron pocket. Something happened of note on that day, and the words “guardian,” “Toledo,” and “broken” were important.
    Jane put the book down and grabbed one of the paperbacks. It was inscribed by the author—J. D. Ypres—“to Wilt with love.”
    So was this Wilt’s room? She flipped open the rest of the books, one after the other, until she found two of them marked “Wilt Peterson” on the interior cover. Obviously, she noted that in her notebook.
    Either Wilt had given these books to the room’s occupant or he was the room’s occupant. She shuffled through the clothes hanging in the closet, but they were unremarkable, except that the jeans were hung, and looked expensive. Also, they had a thirty-inch inseam, but were cuffed, and the cuff was worn at the fold, as though it dragged when he walked, so the person staying in this room was either young or fairly short.
    She was pushing it, snooping this much with Francine’s directions to just clean still ringing in her ears, so she moved off to Christiana’s room, determined to clean it and nothing more.
    Jane was tucked into the master bath, scrubbing the grout lines around the bath tiles, when Christiana came into the bedroom, talking.
    Jane scrubbed slower, and more gently. Eavesdropping was the first chance she’d have to hear something useful. She paused and tucked her white earbuds into her ears. Yes, it was to look like she was listening to music instead of her employer. Yes, that was technically a lie. But…no. She decided not to try and justify it.
    “I expect it to run no differently than it did when he was with us.” Christiana’s voice was pinched. No one replied, and she continued, “Now, if we don’t have it, how do we expect to see visions?” Christiana paused, but no one responded, so she must have been on the phone. “Listen, if this is how God chooses to work, who am I to judge? I expect to hold the revival as scheduled.” She swallowed a sob. “ I will run it, of course. But if I want to share God’s visions, I need to have the tools to do it, don’t I?” There was a lengthier pause, then Christiana laughed, in a sad kind of way. “This has nothing to do with faith. Don’t try that with me. I have faith that God will work like he always does.” Pause. “Where’s your faith, then? If God intends to speak to me through his usual means, then he plans to make it perfectly safe for you to acquire it for me, despite the police ‘crawling all over the place,’ as you put it.”
    Jane was disappointed. She wanted new information, not more of the same. She already knew that Josiah’s visions were induced by drugs. She put her back into scrubbing the wall. She might as well work hard and get the job done, since she was here anyway.
    Christiana continued her one-sided argument. “What I want to know is what happened to all of our inventory. We don’t cross the country unprepared. If one of you kids has taken it all, you will be dead to me. Do you understand?”
    A year’s worth of missing LSD?
    Now that was something more like. Jane grinned as she made the grimy black grout as white as she could. Anyone would say drugs and murder went hand in hand.
    Christiana took her conversation out of the room, so Jane finished as quickly as she could, hoping to find another good spot to clean and listen. But after the bathroom was cleaned and the bed was made, she found Christiana quietly reading her Bible in the living room. Jane paused. “Is there anything special you’d like me to do before I go?” She kept her voice low and her eyes averted, the image of a humble but respectful housekeeper.
    Christiana looked up. “Hmmm? Oh, no, I don’t think so. Just whatever Francine said to do.” She had a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes, and stared out the window instead of