Dead Men Don't Lye (Book 1 in the Soapmaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  Molly said, “If that’s really all you’re worried about, I’m going to go ahead and take the tape. I’m a big girl, Ben. We’ve said we’re nothing more than friends all along. This was bound to happen to one of us sooner or later. It just happened to you first.”

  I didn’t like the edge in her voice as she spoke. “Slow down, Molly. In the first place, being friends is pretty important in my book, and in the second place, nothing’s happened, at least not yet. I’m not even sure our dinner tonight was a real date.”

  Molly’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Don’t kid yourself, I saw the way Kelly was looking at you.” She added hesitantly, “I guess I was kind of caught off guard finding you two together like that, but I’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “To be honest with you, it kind of surprised me, too.” I stood close to her and kept her gaze. “Is this going to be a problem for us?”

  She hugged me briefly, then said, “Not if we don’t let it.”

  “You’re sure we’re good?”

  She said, “We’re good. Now can I have that tape? I want my people to listen to it.”

  “Aren’t you worried about what they’ll say about the message you left me? It doesn’t exactly put you in the best light.”

  “There’s not much I can do about that, now is there?”

  If she could handle the heat, then so be it. I took the tape out of the answering machine and handed it to her, then I put in a spare I had in my handheld recorder. I’d bought them both for just that reason, because they used the same size tape.

  Molly tucked the tape into her shirt pocket and said, “If I were you, I’d take the advice on this tape.”

  I gestured toward her as I said, “Let me ask you something. Would you stop digging just because somebody threatened you?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? The difference between us is that I’m a trained peace officer and you’re a soapmaker. Leave the crime solving to me.”

  There was something she wasn’t considering, but I’d hesitated to bring it up, given the current tensions between us. “Molly, I must be getting close to something. Why else would I get a message like that?”

  “Can you give me anything more specific than that? I don’t even know all the places you’ve been digging. Is there any way you can narrow the list down to a manageable number?”

  I thought about it a few seconds, then realized that if I’d given someone reason to try to scare me off, I had no idea who it was. “No, I’ve been stirring every pot I can find, hoping something would happen.”

  She said, “Well, if you’re not careful, something’s going to happen, but it’s going to be something I guarantee you’re not going to like. Stop taking chances, Ben.”

  I looked into her eyes and could see the earnestness in her message. “Is that a cop talking, or my friend?”

  “It’s both. I’ve already been to three funerals this year, and I’m in no mood to go to a fourth. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I let her out, and Molly tried the door as soon as I shut it.

  “Did you forget something?” I asked as I opened it back up.

  “Aren’t you even going to lock this thing?”

  She was worse than my mother. “I always do, right before bed.”

  “Let me hear it latch, or I’m going to have to babysit you all night.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said.

  “Throw the lock, Ben.”

  I did as she asked, throwing the dead bolt as soon as the door was closed. Through the door, I called out, “Are you happy now?”

  “Ecstatic,” I heard her say.

  After she was gone, I tried to figure out who I’d gotten close enough to in the last two days to ignite anything like that threat. I’d talked to Monique White, Heather Kent, Steve Erickson, John Labott, Melissa Higgins, Kelly, Molly, and all of my family, though if any of them were going to threaten me, I doubted they’d do it anonymously. I thought about Louisa—she’d been on edge lately—and that incident on the dam made me realize my sister was under a lot of pressure. But could there be any possible reason in the world that would make her kill someone and threaten me? I just couldn’t see it. I knew Molly or Kelly wouldn’t have left that message, each for their own and very different reasons. I supposed that any of the others could have done it, though I’d have a tough time figuring out the motive for a few of them. So where did that leave me? In a way, it was positive news. Chances were good that I’d already talked to the killer. Why else would they threaten me? That made the suspect list much more manageable, regardless of what Molly thought. So which one of them was it?

  I still hadn’t come to any concrete solutions by the time I fell asleep. Tomorrow it would be time to stir the pot again. I was hoping I could come up with something a little more specific to use that would help me eliminate at least one of the suspects on my list.

  The next morning there was a car I didn’t recognize sitting in the family parking lot behind the shop. I could see that someone was inside, but not much more than that. My pulse sped up as the car door opened just as I reached the back steps of Where There’s Soap, and I had to fight the urge to run inside and dead bolt the door behind me before they could do something to me.

  “Ben? Can I talk to you?”

  It was Heather Kent from A Long Lost Soap, probably the last person in the world I expected to see that morning.

  “Sure, come on inside. I’ll fix us some coffee.”

  She looked at the shop—and the back stairs in particular—with obvious distaste. “Would it be possible for us to go somewhere else? I’m not really comfortable talking to you here. Do you mind?”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I know a place we can talk. I’ll be with you in a minute. Just let me tell one of my brothers where I’m going to be in case they need me.”

  I slipped inside the door and found Bob staring at the equipment on the production line. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  “The shifter’s still not working properly. I know I made that part correctly, but I can’t figure out what the problem is. We really have to change the layout of this line. It’s driving me crazy the way it is.”

  I knew just enough about the situation to realize that his ideas were worth a lot more than mine on the topic. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Bob said, “I know you’re the go-to guy around here, but this is out of your league.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. Besides, I had something else to do at the moment. “Good enough. I’ll see you later then.”

  “Don’t go away mad,” he said.

  “I know, I know; just go away, right?”

  Bob looked startled as I walked away. He called out, “Hey, Ben, I was just kidding. You don’t have to go. You know how I get when I’m trying to fix a problem. My wife’s surely given me enough grief about it over the years.”

  For him, it was a sterling apology, not that I needed it. I’d grown tough skin when it came to dealing with my family, and it would take more than a few cracks from Bob to get me going. “It’s okay, really. I’d love to stick around, but I’ve got a breakfast date with a beautiful college coed. She’s waiting right outside for me.”

  Bob said, “Yeah, right. You’ve been drinking that crazy tea Louisa’s been pushing on all of us, haven’t you?”

  Just then, Heather tapped on the door, and I saw my brother’s jaw drop. I said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “See you,” was all he managed to say before I left.

  I had to laugh, wondering what Bob might be thinking. I wasn’t about to dissuade him of whatever notions he had.

  I walked outside and joined Heather. “Sorry, I had to talk to my brother first. Are you ready?”

  “Let’s go. We can take my car.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we walk over to The Hound Dog? They make better coffee than I do
, anyway. We should be able to talk there.”

  I locked the door behind us, then we walked a block to The Hound Dog Cafe, a place that was stuck in a surreal Elvis Presley world. There were posters on the walls featuring The King in his movies, album covers under glass, and an area near the cash register that never failed to get a smile. Ruby Harlow, the owner of the cafe, had photographs ranging from the young Elvis all the way to the end when he was splitting his sequined jumpsuits. A jukebox stood in one corner, and heaven help the patron who asked why there were only Elvis tunes on it. There was a good-size crowd there already, and the place was buzzing with a dozen different conversations.

  “Morning, Ruby,” I said. “Could we have two coffees, please?” The cafe owner—a rail-thin woman in her fifties—sported a brunette bouffant hairdo that had gone out in the fifties, and her waitress’s outfit was a replica made just for her, based on a character in one of Elvis’s movies. I kept forgetting which one, and I was afraid to ask her again, lest she think I didn’t care, which was the truth, but I wasn’t about to hurt her feelings if I could help it. Besides, Elvis did kind of grow on me after a while.

  Ruby winked at Heather, then said, “He’s a big spender, isn’t he? Go ahead, honey, order breakfast. Don’t believe a word he tells you, I know for a fact that Ben here can afford it.”

  “Coffee’s fine,” Heather said, still not knowing what to make of the place. In the background, Ruby had one of her Elvis’s Greatest Hits CDs going, but it was low enough for us to chat over the music.

  Ruby slid the coffees in front of us, slipping the bill under my saucer before disappearing back up front. We’d chosen an empty table by one of the broad windows, and as I stirred the cream into my coffee, I watched as the world started waking up and passing us by.

  Heather took a sip, then said, “Mmm, this is really good.”

  “Yeah, and you get all Elvis-all the time to boot.”

  Heather gestured around the room and asked, “Is this for show, or is she really that big a fan?”

  I lowered my voice as I explained, “Ruby considers herself the world’s biggest Elvis fan. She closes the cafe twice a year, a week each time. Guess where she goes?”

  “Don’t tell me: Graceland.”

  I didn’t even try to contain my smile. “You got it on the first try. She says there’s nothing like Memphis at Christmas and in the springtime. Here’s something kind of interesting. If you can sing an Elvis tune from start to finish, you get a free cup of coffee the first time you do it. She takes it all pretty seriously. Don’t let it throw you, though. She’s got a sweet disposition and a sharp brain under that bouffant hair.”

  Heather looked intrigued by the setup. “I’m just curious, but what do Elvis impersonators get? Does she like them, or does she shoot them on sight?”

  It was a fair question. “You’ve got to be kidding. They eat on the house, at least the first time. Ruby’s a fan, but she’s still operating a business.” I took another sip of coffee, then asked, “So what brings you here? I know you’re looking for more than my company, no matter how pleasant you might find it. We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, did we?”

  Her gaze shot down to her coffee. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just that every time I’ve talked to you, I end up getting upset. Ben, we need to talk.” She looked out the window a few seconds, then said, “The police came to see me again yesterday afternoon.”

  “I told you they probably would.”

  Heather said, “That woman—I think her name was Molly or Polly—kept staring at me like she didn’t believe a word I said.”

  “It’s Molly, and don’t let it rattle you. She treats everybody like that. I honestly believe she thinks it’s a part of her job.”

  “Well I didn’t appreciate it. She made me feel guilty, and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  I shrugged. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “That’s just it. There’s something I should have told her, but she made me so nervous I couldn’t bring myself to say it.”

  How had I suddenly been appointed as the go-between with Molly and the rest of the soapmaking world? “Heather, believe me, it will be better for you if you go to her with whatever you know. If she finds out from somebody else, Molly will chew away at you like a dog after a bone.”

  If she’d expected comfort from me, she wasn’t going to get much. After all, Heather was still high on my list of suspects, no matter how nice she was being at the moment.

  She said, “That’s what I’m afraid of. Listen, Ben, I need a favor. If I tell you, will you tell her for me?”

  I wanted to say no, I really did. Instead, I heard myself saying, “Absolutely. What’s on your mind?”

  My acquiescence was rewarded with her hesitation. “You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I probably should just go.”

  She started to get up, and there was really no way I could stop her, but I had to at least try. “Heather, don’t you think you’ll feel better telling someone? If you don’t, it’s not going to give you any peace. I’m willing to listen, and I promise I won’t judge you.” I’d try not to, anyway.

  She appeared to think about it for a few seconds, then finally said, “I can’t. It’s not right.”

  And then she was gone. I couldn’t give up, though. I threw Ruby a five and said, “See you later.”

  Heather was halfway back to her car by the time I caught up with her. I was suddenly glad I’d kept my walking regimen up. “Hey, hang on a second.”

  She kept walking purposefully toward her car. “I can’t, Ben. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come to you. I made a mistake.”

  I took a deep breath, then said, “Why don’t you tell me and let me decide for myself.”

  She hesitated, then stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at me. “It’s about a rumor I heard, and I absolutely hate gossip. Ordinarily I’d just forget it, but this might be important.”

  “You can trust me.”

  Finally, she must have believed that I was sincere. “The only reason I’m coming to you is that it might help your sister. I may know who killed Jerry.”

  That got my full attention. “Tell me all about it.”

  She said, “I’m not even sure if what I overheard was true. You know what? I might as well tell you, this is ridiculous. I think John Labott might have had something to do with Jerry’s death.”

  “John? Are you sure?” There was no way I could see John doing anything like that. He was the nicest, most levelheaded guy I knew.

  Heather seemed pretty sure, though. “It was John. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  “What exactly did you hear? Who was doing the talking?”

  Heather said, “I’m not going to say, so don’t ask me. I overheard something that wasn’t meant for me to hear.”

  “At least tell me what they said,” I pushed. “You can’t leave it at this.”

  Heather bit her lower lip, then said, “Okay, I heard that the only way John was going to get to Louisa was by getting rid of his competition. It was said as a joke, but there was a ring of truth behind it. I like John, and I hate repeating something like this, but is there any chance it could be true?”

  I suddenly felt better about her nervousness. “He likes Louisa, I know that much. Would he get rid of Jerry to get closer to her? I find that nearly impossible to believe.”

  “But do you think it’s possible?”

  I nodded. “I guess it could be, but John asked Louisa out long before Jerry started calling on us, and she turned him down flat. Are you sure you won’t tell me where you heard this?”

  She shook her head and started walking again. “I’ve said too much as it is. I’ve made such a fool out of myself.”

  “You did what you felt you had to. Heather, thanks for caring enough to come to me with this. I really do appreciate it.” There were two ways I saw it. Heather could have been sincere in her desire to help, or she could be trying to divert susp
icion to someone else. If she was sincere, the apology was heartfelt, but if she was trying to deceive me and I found out about it, it wouldn’t sit lightly with me.

  I managed to keep up with her all the way back to her car, but I couldn’t get her to say another word.

  As Heather drove away, Cindy popped her head out the back door. She said angrily, “I can’t believe you’re two-timing Kelly after one date. What is it with you men?”

  It appeared that my baby sister was giving Mom a run for conclusion jumping. If it was an Olympic event, my family would be well represented on the team. “Has anybody in this family heard of personal privacy?”

  Cindy said, “You’re kidding, right? Now get in here, I want to hear what you think you’re doing with that child when you’re dating a perfectly nice woman closer to your own age.”

  I nearly got in the Miata and drove off to avoid the grilling I was going to get, but I knew ultimately it would just delay the inquisition.

  As I walked past my little sister into the soap shop, I said, “Before you get all wound up, that was Heather Kent. She’s running A Long Lost Soap while her grandparents are on a cruise.”

  “And you’re dating her, too? Isn’t one woman enough for you all of a sudden?”

  Trying to keep from yelling, I said, “I’m not dating Heather Kent. She wanted to talk to me about something, so we had coffee at The Hound Dog. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

  Cindy appeared to buy it, but just barely. “What was so important, anyway?”

  “It was about Jerry Sanger’s murder,” I said. “I’m still working on it, you know.”

  Cindy softened at once. “I know you are, Ben; I didn’t mean to push. I just didn’t want to see you do something stupid and jeopardize your relationship with Kelly.”

  “Cindy, you’re my sister and I love you, but you need to butt out of my life. Pass that on to Kate and Mom for me, too, would you?”

  If she was offended by my blunt comments, she didn’t show it. “We love you, you big goofball. That’s why we want you to be happy.”

  “I’m happy enough,” I said.

  “Yes, but you could be happier, I just know it. So how was your date?”