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

looking at Jane.
    “Okay. Thank you.” Jane went to the mudroom. She rinsed out her rags and her mop.
    The door behind her opened, and someone stomped in. She turned and smiled at a young man with messy brown hair who was wearing work gear.
    He nodded at her and then sat down on the bench to take off his mud-caked boots. “Is Christiana inside?” he asked in a voice that had a hint of Boston to it.
    “Yeah, in the living room.” Jane wrung out her rag again.
    “Thanks.” He shoved his boots under the bench and went sock footed to Christiana.
    “Did you get it?” Christiana asked, her voice tired, and not at all dreamy as it had been before.
    “It’s not gonna happen, Mamma,” the young man responded.
    Christiana exhaled loudly. “Well then, what ideas do you have?”
    “Pray about it?” The man laughed.
    “Might as well.” Christiana’s voice was resigned. Jane didn’t want to listen in to a conversation that was completely devoid of interesting or specific details, so she packed up her cleaning caddy and left.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Later that night she camped out in her bedroom with her criminology text and pored over the assigned chapters. The criminal mind wasn’t much of a mystery. All have sinned and fallen short. And out of the heart of man come evil thoughts. And thoughts lead to actions. Since she was part of the “all” who had sinned, and who had evil thoughts, well, she didn’t love the implication that she was equally capable of murder, but in general, the idea that sinners in a broken world were out to get each other was neither shocking nor particularly intimidating.
    She just had to narrow down what kind of evil mind was behind this particular murder.
    Every time a lecturer in her criminal justice class mentioned religious fanaticism as a sign of mental imbalance, Jane bristled. But, if that were true and not just liberal bias, a Josiah Malachi event was likely to be rife with just that kind of crazy. His killer could easily be a maniac who was exhibiting religious fanaticism. If so, should she be looking inside or outside? Would it have been someone who came to the event and saw the opportunity, or someone within?
    Jake wanted her to dismiss the idea of an outsider, but if he had a fanatic follower who was familiar, from televised events and the Internet, with his regular script, that person could have easily planned a murder.
    Her phone chirped—Francine was texting.
    “TMRO 9 AM. B HERE.”
    Jane wrinkled her nose. Needlessly vague texts irritated her. “At the Malachi house? To clean?”
    “YES! IMPORTANT MTNG.”
    Jane considered asking what kind of meeting, but it occurred to her that someone might be monitoring Francine’s phone. For about fifty bucks Jane could set her up with an untraceable phone no one else knew about. It would be a deductible work expense—and invaluable for getting real info from Francine.
    “CU then.” Jane sent her last message. She’d have to hope there was some kind of mess near enough to the meeting that she could conveniently hear what was happening. Maybe Francine would take care of that little detail for her.
     
    Jane was too excited to sleep well. She tossed and turned and kicked her down comforter off. Could she convince Francine to take a new phone? Would she be able to hear what was going on in the meeting? Would she know the useful information from the worthless? Was she just wasting the Malachis’ money while the police did the real work?
    Would the Malachis actually pay her?
    Despite the sleep fail, she was up by five, like usual, and had plenty of time to make her requests known to God before she was needed at the Malachi house.
    As to the necessary mess, an act of God had taken care of that.
    Christiana was established in the dining room with half a dozen people around the table, Francine included.
    Jane was in the kitchen, one small butler’s pantry away, deep cleaning because of an infestation of sugar ants. They were