A Mold For Murder (14 page)

“You can trust me with it,” she said. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

“If you’re sure it won’t taint me forever in your eyes,” I said.

“I promise I won’t judge you.”

“Well, I suppose you had to find out sooner or later.” I paused, then confessed, “Sometimes, late at night when no one else is around, I watch infomercials. I don’t mean to, but I’m flipping through the channels and I spot something, watch it a few seconds, then I’m hooked.”

“That is bad,” she admitted. “Have you ever ordered anything?”

“Just once, I swear it.”

Diana nodded. “What did you buy?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m too ashamed.”

She touched my arm. “Ben, your secret is safe with me. Go on, tell me. You’ll feel better about it.”

“I got the greatest hits of the seventies,” I said.

She couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. “I’ve seen that commercial.”

“Any time you want to listen to the complete catalog, just let me know.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass.”

I collected our trash, then asked, “So, where would you like to go now? If you can’t face going back home, I’m sure one of my sisters would put you up until this blows over.”

“Do you honestly think it’s ever going to end? I can’t even blame them. If I didn’t know I was innocent, I’d suspect myself, too. She killed my parents, Ben. How is that something I could ever forget, let alone forgive? You want to know something? If I’d known who she was, I actually might have done it.”

I patted her hand. “But you didn’t.”

Diana started to cry, slowly at first, but then with more force. I tried my best to put my arm around her in the tight confines of the convertible, but I didn’t have much luck.

“It’s like losing them all over again,” she whimpered. “It hurts so much.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I said. “Come home with me.”

“I can’t.” As she dried her tears, she said, “But I know where I need to be. Would you take me to my aunt and uncle’s house?”

“I’d be happy to,” I said. “You can stay as long as you’d like, and when you’re ready to come back here, I’ll be in their driveway waiting for you.”

Her voice was deadly calm as she said, “I’m not sure when I’ll be coming back. I can’t take this scrutiny, it’s driving me mad.”

“You can take as much time as you need. I understand. How are you going to get your clothes?”

“I can’t go back there,” she said. “Don’t worry, my aunt and I wear the same size. I’ll borrow anything I need from her. Thanks for understanding.”

“Hey, it’s what I do best.”

I drove her to Hunter’s Hollow where they lived, but we paused outside in the driveway before she got out.

“At least let me walk you in,” I said.

“It’s better if we say good-bye right here.” She leaned forward to give me a quick peck on the cheek, then popped out before I could get her door.

“Thanks, Ben. I’ll call you.”

“Tonight,” I said.

“Tonight,” she promised.

Her aunt and uncle must have been watching out the front door, because she was barely up the front steps when the door opened and they both came out. They wrapped her in their embrace, and Diana’s uncle waved to me to show that everything was all right. I drove off, happy that Diana had somebody to turn to. It made me miss my father, but I was glad that I had such a large family around me. Most of the time relationships came and went, but family was always there. I didn’t know how I could have survived without mine, and I was glad Diana had somewhere she could always go.

As I drove back to Harper’s Landing, I wondered if Molly had interviewed Diana’s aunt and uncle about the murder. After all, one of them had lost a sibling in that wreck, and if someone had killed one of my brothers or sisters—by accident or premeditation—I would have hunted them down myself.

I decided to stop off for a newspaper, since we were down to an afternoon edition of the local paper. I’d delivered the morning paper as a kid on my bicycle, passing the route down to any brother or sister who wanted it along the line. We’d had two healthy papers back then, but now we were down to one that was rumored to be failing. The talk around town was that they were going to have to come up with a big jump in revenues if they were going to make it.

When the headline screamed out at me as I paid for my paper, I realized they were going to try to drive their sales through the roof all at once, and at my family’s expense.

EIGHT

“
MURDεR
Revisits Local Business,” the headline shouted. There was a black-and-white photograph of Where There’s Soap just below the banner, and the photographer had somehow managed to make the shop look evil and sinister, as if the building itself had something to do with the homicides that had happened on our grounds. The story wasn’t much better. Whoever had written the article had dug up every piece of dirt they could find about our business, and after I read it, I wouldn’t have wanted to shop there myself. I bought four more papers, realizing that my family needed to see this, and wouldn’t be that patient in waiting to share.

My hands were shaking as I drove up to the shop. I’d been gripping the steering wheel with a grasp that I wanted to use on the reporter and editor who had so overtly smeared us.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked as I walked into a nearly deserted store. Had the article affected business already?

“I’m right here,” she said, coming out from behind the register. “Benjamin, what’s wrong?”

I slammed the papers down on the counter. “Have you seen this?”

She picked up the top copy, and soon every one of my brothers and sisters were reading it, some over the others’ shoulders. By the time everyone had read it, we were ready to form a lynch mob.

Mom quelled us quickly enough. “Stop it,” she said, silencing our protests. “That’s enough.”

“What are we going to do about this?” Louisa asked. “We can’t let them get away with it.”

“And what do you propose we do?” Mom asked calmly. “Is there anything they’ve printed here that’s not true?”

“It’s not what they said,” Bob protested. “It’s the way they said it. We should sue them.”

“Newspapers slant stories from time to time. Is there a single one of you who’s shocked by that? Of course not. I’m not any happier about this than you are, but we will weather this storm.”

“Not unless we find out what really happened here,” I said. “Until they have a killer to name, we’re going to be their sensational headline.”

She patted my shoulder. “Then it’s more important than ever that you find the killer so Molly can arrest him.”

“How do you suggest I do that?” I asked.

“Do what you’re best at, Benjamin. Hit the hornet’s nest with a stick and see what happens.”

“What happens if I get stung?” I asked.

She frowned at me, then said, “You need to be careful so that doesn’t happen.”

“What are the rest of us supposed to do in the meantime?” Jim asked.

Mom clapped her hands together, her usual method of getting our attention. “Boys, you have enough orders to fill as it is. You’ve been complaining that you never manage to get caught up, so take advantage of this lull and do just that.”

Kate said, “That’s fine for them, but what about us?”

Mom waved a hand around the room. “There are lots of things we can do. I’ve been wanting to have a complete store inventory and cleaning, and what better time than when there aren’t many customers here?”

Louisa asked, “You mean we have to count everything in here? It will take forever.”

Mom clucked at her. “It’s always a good time to do inventory. Trust me, children, there will be plenty of work for everyone. We have a nest egg held back for a rainy day, so no one’s going to miss a paycheck.”

Jim said, “I hope it’s a monster of an egg. We’re going to need it.”

“Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine. Now let’s all get busy, shall we? There’s work to be done.”

That seemed to satisfy them somewhat, so Mom pulled me away into the classroom. As soon as she shut the door, Mom said, “Benjamin, you must solve this quickly before we are ruined.”

“What happened to the pep talk you just gave the rest of the family?” I asked.

“That was for the benefit of your brothers and sisters. This is serious. I won’t have this family or this business ruined this way, and it’s up to you to make sure neither happens. We can’t allow them to drag our name through the mud. You must find the real killer, Benjamin.”

“I’m trying,” I said, “but it’s hard.”

“Of course it is,” she said sympathetically. “That’s why it’s your job. Is Diana distracting you from your work? Perhaps you should focus on this problem and spend less time with her. I approve of the dear girl, you know that, but we need your best.”

“She’s staying with family in Hunter’s Hollow until this blows over,” I admitted. “Seeing her too much won’t be a problem.”

Mom nodded. “That’s the wisest thing to do. So, what are you going to do about this?”

I offered her a slight grin. “I’m going to go find a hornet’s next and whack it with a stick.”

“That’s my boy,” she said as she squeezed my cheek.

Now I just had to find the right nest to hit.

 

 

FROM
everything I’d heard lately, I had to believe Sharon was still my most viable suspect, even if Molly didn’t agree. It was time to talk to Connie Brown’s assistant and see if there was a crack in her armor I could exploit.

I decided to walk to Jean Henshaw’s bed-and-breakfast, since it was close to the soap shop. That had been one of the reasons I’d put the contessa there. I figured I’d be able to keep an eye on her if she was nearby. Man, oh man, had I been wrong.

It was a glorious day, but the sunshine and warm breeze were lost on me. I kept thinking about finding our guest speaker and star lying there on the floor of our shop. It was bad enough that someone had killed her, but why had they done it in Where There’s Soap? Surely it would have been easier to strike when there wasn’t a crowd of people in the next room. The person who’d done it either had the guts of a contract killer or they hadn’t even thought about the prospect of getting caught. Great. That meant I was either looking for a professional with no qualms about homicide, or an amateur who didn’t think through the ramifications of the crime. There weren’t any professional killers in Harper’s Landing, at least not that I knew of, so that left an amateur acting on the spur of the moment, seizing an opportunity when it presented itself. The choice of the murder weapon dovetailed in with that theory. It was the easiest thing in the world to grab a hammer. The key had to be the soap, in my mind. Why jam it in her mouth? Was the killer trying to shut her up, metaphorically of course, or were they trying to cleanse the victim’s words somehow? What else could the gesture mean?

I got to Jean’s bed-and-breakfast and admired the carefully scripted wooden sign by the sidewalk. She’d gone with a theme of lavender and maroon, and it was carried out from the sign to the paint on the Victorian to the room decorations. Though it always felt a little formal for my taste, I knew Jean ran her establishment at full capacity most of the time.

The proprietress was at the front desk frowning at a ledger when I walked in. Jean was a slim, handsome woman who had opted for a short haircut in the most unusual way. I’d been at her sixtieth birthday party when she’d declared to the world that she was no longer going to put up with long hair. Janis Farley, the owner and head beautician at Harper’s Fine Coifs, came forward with her trusty scissors and combs and proceeded to give the hostess the one thing she’d asked for on her birthday, while we all looked on. Janis had actually blushed as we’d applauded when she was finished.

“That’s a healthy frown you’ve got there,” I said.

“Hi, Ben,” she said, the lines easing as she saw me. “I was wondering when I’d see you. You didn’t have to come down here in person to pay the bill, but I won’t turn your money away.”

I was embarrassed as I admitted, “I hate to say it, but I didn’t come here for that. If you need a check right now, I’ll call Mom and she’ll have one of the others run it right over.”

“Nonsense,” Jean said, “I’m doing fine.” Her words were spoken as rote, and it was clear she didn’t believe them herself.

“Jean, is everything all right?”

She started to say something, then I could tell she changed her mind. “Everything is delightful. So, if you’re not here to settle your bill, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I need to talk to one of your guests,” I admitted. “Would you tell Sharon I’m here?”

She looked surprised by my request. “She checked out two hours ago, Ben. That’s why I thought you were here to settle up.”

Oh, no. My suspects were disappearing faster than ice cubes on the sidewalk in August. “Did she happen to say where she was going?”

“No,” Jean frowned. “Come to think of it, she was in rather a hurry to get out of here. In fact, she left a few things behind. Hang on one second. I’ll go get them.”

Jean returned a minute later with a suitcase and a garment bag. “These belonged to the contessa. Molly searched through them, but she said there wasn’t anything important in either one. Sharon must have forgotten all about them. I didn’t care for the woman,” she added in a softer voice, as if someone nearby might overhear her.

“Sharon?”

“No, Sharon was a delightful guest. Her employer was another matter altogether.” She bit her lip for a second, then added, “Ben, you know I’m not a prude. Far from it, in fact. But honestly, she was here only one night and she still managed to have two male visitors in her room after hours.”

That was interesting. “Did you happen to recognize either one of them?”

“One was a stranger to me, but the odd thing about the other one was that I could swear he was wearing a uniform.”