A Mold For Murder

by Myers, Tim

  “Are you talking about Sharon?”

  “Ask her yourself,” Betsy said.

  “Why don’t you come with me? After all, you’re the one who eavesdropped on their conversation.”

  She didn’t deny it. “And what on earth could possibly be in it for me? That’s what makes the world wag its tail, Ben, never forget it.”

  Before I could answer, she drove away. As I wrote her license plate number down on the palm of my hand, I could still hear her laughing.

  I called Molly, who answered grumpily, “What?”

  “I just talked to Betsy Blair, and she had an interesting take on Connie Brown’s murder you should hear.”

  “Ben, don’t start with me. I’ve had a bad morning, and it just keeps getting worse.”

  “Don’t you at least want to hear what she had to say?”

  There was a short pause, then Molly said, “Go ahead, but make it dance.”

  I think “Betsy eavesdropped on Connie’s room while she was staying in town, and she heard Connie fighting with Sharon. She claims the contessa fired her assistant just before she was murdered.”

  I could hear Molly sigh loudly. “I can’t use any of that: it is nothing but hearsay, and if you weren’t such an amateur, you would know it, too.”

  “At least talk to her,” I said.

  “Don’t you think I have? Ben, stick to your soapmaking and leave the detecting to me.”

  And then she hung up on me.

  I was too angry to drive, so I sat there until I could calm myself down. Molly knew just how to tweak my pride, and I wish I could get over the jabs she took at me, but unfortunately, I hadn’t figured out a way to do that yet. On a whim, I picked up the manuscript Betsy had signed for me and leafed through it. It wasn’t half bad, actually. Her points were lucid and well thought out, and I found myself easily following her steps and procedures. From teaching classes myself, I knew that wasn’t as easy as it looked. Something caught my eye as I scanned the document, and I realized that one of the techniques she was suggesting was more than a little familiar. Where had I seen it, though? Then I realized that it had come from Connie’s new book, with little effort made to hide its source. But the real question was still which document had come first.

  I hated to admit it, but I wasn’t getting anywhere in my investigation. I thought of a dozen things I could do, but what I ended up deciding on was going back to the shop. It seemed that every time I tried to help, I kept getting smacked in the nose for my trouble. If it weren’t for Diana’s involvement with the murder victim—and the fact that our back room was the murder scene—I’d turn my back on the whole thing without a single look over my shoulder.

  I was involved in it, though, whether I liked it or not.

  As I drove, I realized that I couldn’t let Molly brush me off like that. I had given her pertinent information—at least I thought it was important—and she was going to take it seriously.

  I took a chance and went by her office, but she wasn’t there, and the man behind the desk wouldn’t tell me where she was. I had an idea, though. It was approaching lunchtime, and I knew she and my brother liked to eat together whenever they could. All I had to do was go back to Where There’s Soap and hope she showed up.

  Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good. At least that’s what I thought as I pulled into the back parking lot of Where There’s Soap and saw Molly’s squad car parked there. She was sitting in the driver’s seat talking on the radio as I approached her, and I could hear her say, “It’s okay, George, you did the right thing. No, it’s fine. He’s standing right here. I don’t need backup to handle him, trust me.”

  She got out of the squad car. “You’ve got to stop showing up at my office. Half the force believes you’re stalking me, and the other half thinks you’re pining away for my long lost love.”

  “You wish,” I said, without hesitation.

  I’d been flip about it, but apparently she wasn’t in the mood. “No, actually, I’d hoped you’d get bored and find a new hobby. I’m tired of having you nipping at my heels all of the time.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. Sometimes I get there before you do,” I said, letting my voice’s intensity match hers.

  “Ben, when are you going to get it through your head that I don’t need your help? I’m a good cop. Why can’t you believe that?”

  “I do,” I said. “Molly, I’m not trying to make you look bad when I dig into these things. But I wish you’d at least acknowledge that sometimes I manage to come up with something you’ve missed.”

  “Let’s see, you just insulted my work ethic, my professional competence, and my honor. How on earth could any of that make me mad?”

  “I’m not trying to charm you,” I said. “I had some valuable information to share with you, but because of your stubborn pride, she’s probably long gone.”

  Molly looked at me and frowned. “Are you still talking about Betsy Blair? I can’t listen to whatever she told you. It won’t stand up in court.”

  “Then go talk to her yourself. She checked out of the Mountain Lake Motel, but I’ve got her license plate number. Find her and talk to her.”

  “What’s the plate number?” she asked as she got back into her car and turned the radio up.

  I held my palm up where I’d written it.

  She stared at it a second, then asked, “Do you honestly expect me to do anything with this?”

  I looked at my hand and saw that the number was smudged beyond recognition. “It started with a J. I’m pretty sure of that.”

  “Sorry, but it’s not enough.” She turned her radio back off and got out.

  “Aren’t you going to at least talk to her?” I asked.

  “You told me she was gone, remember? What do you expect me to do about it?”

  Before I could say anything else, Jeff came out on the back steps. “I could hear you two fighting all the way inside. What’s going on?”

  I looked at him and said, “We’re not fighting. We’re just having a difference of opinion.”

  He looked at Molly, who wouldn’t make eye contact. “That’s what I thought. Ben, if you’ll excuse us, we’re late for our lunch.”

  “We’re not finished here,” I said.

  Molly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we are. Bye, Ben.”

  She and Jeff walked to his car, and he held the door open for her. After they were gone, I walked inside the soap shop. Why wouldn’t Molly listen to me? I could help her, if only she weren’t so stubborn.

  “You look like you just lost your best friend,” my youngest sister Cindy said as I walked into the boutique area of our business.

  “The funny thing is, I think I just might have.”

  The look of sympathy on her face was undeniable. “Ben, I’m so sorry. Would you like to talk about it?”

  I studied my sister and saw the concern on her face. I bit back my first reaction of serving up a sarcastic remark and patted her hand. “I appreciate the offer, but I just want to forget it ever happened.”

  “Fine, but if you want to talk, I’m always here for you.”

  I smiled at her. “Cindy, I’m supposed to be the wiser, older sibling here. I should be offering comfort instead of getting it.”

  She offered me one of her perfect grins. “I don’t happen to need any at the moment, but when I do, you’ll be the first one I call. If you’re sure you don’t need me, I’m taking off for a long lunch. I’ve got a big date.”

  “Anybody I know?” I asked.

  “Oh, no you don’t. If Louisa, Kate, and Mom can’t get it out of me, I’m certainly not going to tell you. For now, just think of him as a mystery man.”

  “I’d like to meet him before you two go out,” I said. Since Dad had died, I’d taken over the role of keeping tabs on my siblings, and screening my sisters’ dates was high on that list.

  “I’m sure you would,” she said, and then she escaped while she could.

  I found Kate and Louisa stocking the
new lotion and balm section. “That didn’t take long,” I said.

  “Mom insisted,” Kate said. “And as long as she’s willing to let me try it, I’m not going to get in the way. What do you think about what we’ve got so far?”

  I studied the layout. They’d filled half the space with craft kits on lotions and balms, and the other shelves were full of supplies. “It’s fine,” I said.

  Kate wasn’t about to let me get away with that. “Come on, give. What’s wrong with it?”

  “Do you really want my opinion?” I asked.

  “Would I have asked for it if I didn’t? I’m not saying I’ll do what you say, but I do want to hear your thoughts.”

  I looked at Louisa. “How about you?”

  “Don’t drag me into this. I’m just her helper. She’s making all of the executive decisions.”

  I nodded. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. Take all that clutter off the top shelf and make an instructional display on how easy the products are to make. You’re clever, use your imagination.”

  “But if the shelf doesn’t have any products on it, how are we going to make money off it?”

  I knew Mom drilled everyone in our business on making every square inch of the store count, so it wasn’t an unreasonable question. “Kate, they need to see the steps if you’re going to sell many kits. Once you get them hooked on the process, then you’ll get repeat sales. Trust me, though, I’d demo it first.”

  Kate nodded. “I’ll think about it.” She turned to Louisa and asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think whatever you decide will be perfect.”

  “Come on,” Kate said to her. “Don’t be afraid to slam Ben’s idea just because he’s standing right here with us.”

  Louisa laughed. “As if I would. Honestly, you’ll get some flak from Mom, but I think the idea makes sense.” She patted me on the arm. “Wow, I knew you’d have to be right sooner or later. After all, you can’t blatantly keep ignoring the law of averages your entire life.”

  “Thanks for the boost,” I said.

  “Hey, that’s why I’m here.”

  As Kate worked on the how-to display, I helped Louisa with the sales floor. We hadn’t scheduled any classes for the week, thinking we wouldn’t have the time or the energy after our Soap Celebration. It was just one more area where our bottom line would take a hit.

  I worked with my sisters as they took turns going to lunch. I wasn’t that hungry, and it felt good waiting on customers instead of chasing down dead end after dead end. It seemed that everywhere I turned there were too many suspects, but no way of proving any of them had been directly involved in Connie Brown’s murder.

  “Ben, you need to take lunch. It’s nearly three o’clock,” Cindy said as Kate got back. “We never expected you to work here all afternoon.”

  “That’s true,” Louisa said. “You’ve earned a lunch break.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  Kate looked at me and said, “We’re sure you have other things to do.”

  “Are you all trying to get rid of me?”

  Louisa grinned. “Give the man a cigar. Seriously, we have a routine, and you’re stepping all over it. It’s nice to have you fill in, but we can handle it from here on out.”

  “I don’t know when I’ve ever been so insulted in my life,” I said, trying to hide my grin.

  “Come on, it can’t be that hard to figure out,” Louisa said. “How about the time—”

  I cut her off before she could finish. “Thanks, but I don’t need a recap of Ben’s snubs. I get the hint. I’m going.”

  The three of them collapsed on me, putting me in the direct center of a group hug. “You know we love you,” Kate said.

  “Though we’re not sure why,” Louisa added.

  Cindy said, “Don’t pay any attention to them. You know you’re the best big brother a girl could ask for.”

  “You’d better be careful saying that,” I told Cindy. “You’ve got four big brothers.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  I made my way out of the crowd, and Kate asked, “Do you feel better now?”

  “As rejections go, that was pretty nice,” I admitted. “Now I’m going to get out of here before you change your minds.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Louisa said.

  I took off. As my stomach started to rumble, I decided I could eat a bite or two after all. The only thing was, I didn’t want to eat alone. I thought about calling Diana, but then decided I’d go ahead and drop by her bookstore just in case she could get away. I hadn’t had a chance to spend any time with her since the murder, and I needed her as my touchstone.

  Dying To Read was crowded with customers, but Rufus was ignoring them. Instead, he had a series of photographs laid out on the sales counter, and he was peering at different shots with a photographer’s loupe.

  “Is your boss around?”

  He looked up at me and grinned. “I have no superior, but if you want Diana, she’s hiding back in her office.”

  “Is it that bad?” I asked softly. Diana was an extrovert who had a true love for her mystery readers. That’s when I realized that they must have all been there to experience a real murder vicariously. Instead of killing her business as a suspect, Diana was probably more popular selling books than she ever had been before.

  Rufus’s head bobbed. “It’s pretty tough. She hasn’t even been to lunch yet. I don’t think she’s coming out.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” I said as I made my way to her office. I knocked once, waited, then knocked again. Could she have slipped out without Rufus realizing it? “Diana? It’s Ben.”

  I heard movement, then the door opened slowly.

  “Come in, but make it fast.”

  I slipped inside, and she clicked the lock in place behind me. “Are the vultures still out there?” she asked.

  “If you mean your customers, there’s a pretty good crowd assembling. Are you okay?”

  She looked frazzled. Diana had pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail, but a great many errant strands had escaped. Her makeup was barely applied, and the bags under her eyes told me she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

  “I’ve been better,” she admitted.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” I said. “This can’t be doing you any good.”

  She shrugged. “I can’t just bail out on Rufus. I know my customers mean well, but they’ve been driving me crazy with their theories on what really happened to Connie Brown. That’s not the worst part of it, though. Some of them think I actually did it, and they’re full of advice on how to fool the police. One man even lectured me on how to beat a polygraph test.”

  “Are you honestly doing Rufus any good staying back here behind a locked door?” I asked. “He asked me himself to get you out of here. The kid’s unflappable. Instead of paying any attention to your customers, he’s looking at his photographs.”

  “He’s got the bug pretty bad,” she said. “I just hope I don’t lose him to the Camera Corner. Good help is tough to find on what I can pay.”

  “Do you honestly think anybody else is going to cut him the slack you do? I’ve got a feeling you’re pretty safe. So what do you say? Do you want to break out of this joint?”

  “They’ll never let me out of here without a fight,” she said. “But if you can come up with something, I’m game.”

  I thought about it a few seconds, then said, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll create a diversion up front and you slip out the back. I’m parked down the street, and the Miata’s unlocked. I’ll see you there.”

  “Where are we going to go?” she asked. “I’m starving, but I can’t take everybody staring at me. They’ve already convicted me in their minds. I can feel it every time somebody looks at me.”

  “We can grab a pizza to go, then take it back to my apartment. Or your place, if you’d prefer that.”

  “I don’t care where we go. Let’s just
get out of here.”

  I nodded. “Give me a minute, and when you hear a commotion up front, run.”

  She touched my arm. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll figure that out once I’m up there.” I kissed her lightly on the forehead. “See you soon.”

  I walked out of her office, and noticed that several people had been watching her door. Diana hadn’t been paranoid. It appeared that many of the shoppers there really were trying to get a glimpse of her. I walked to the front window near Rufus and said in as loud a voice as I could, “Rufus, is that a body on the square?”

  That got everyone’s attention, including the store clerk’s. “Where? I don’t see a body.”

  “Keep your voice down and follow my lead,” I said. In a louder voice, I added, “See? It’s right there.”

  “You’re right. Oh, man, I think that’s blood,” he said, the delight in his voice evident. That was all it took to get every patron of the store to the front window. I glanced back and saw Diana slip out the back way, then said, “No, it was just a shadow, but it looked real to me. Sorry.”

  There were more murmurs of disappointment than I ever would have imagined. From conversations with Diana in the past, I knew that mystery lovers fell into distinct categories, and I suspected most of the folks there at the moment were the hard-boiled types who enjoyed reading about violence. I loved traditional mysteries myself, preferring a book by Agatha Christie, Carolyn Hart, or Charlotte MacLeod any day. I liked it when the townspeople’s characters were dissected more than the victim.

  After Rufus and I were alone again, he asked softly, “What was that about?”

  Before I could answer, he snapped his fingers. “It was a diversion, wasn’t it? Diana’s already out the back door, isn’t she?”

  I grinned and nodded. “It appeared to work, too.”

  Rufus buffed his fingernails on his shirt. “I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I?”

  If he wanted to delude himself into believing he’d known what I was up to, that was fine with me. “You fooled me, and I’m the one who set it up,” I said. “See you later.”

  “Yeah,” he said absently as he went back to his photographs.

  Diana was sitting in the Miata waiting for me. As I got in, I said, “That went well, don’t you think?”