A Pour Way to Dye (Book 2 in the Soapmaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  Chapter 11

  I pulled up just as Molly got on the scene. She shook her head when she saw me. “You’re making a habit of this, aren’t you?”

  “I thought you were in court,” I said.

  “After he saw me waiting to testify, Frank Jordan decided to take the plea bargain he’d been offered before. It was a smart move. I was getting ready to nail him.”

  Molly approached one of the attendants as they loaded the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. “What happened?”

  “It looks like a suicide attempt,” he said as he worked to secure the gurney in the vehicle.

  I looked in and saw Andrew Joy’s face partially obscured by an oxygen mask.

  Molly asked, “What did he try to do? There’s no blood.”

  “This one went with pills. There are enough empty bottles in there to stock a pharmacy. We’ve got to roll.”

  After they sped away, Molly turned to me. Before she could say anything, I said, “Hey, I had nothing to do with this, either.”

  “I know that,” she said. “You don’t have any business being here, though.”

  “Can I come in with you, anyway?” I asked. “It’s not like it’s a crime scene or anything.”

  Molly shook her head. “I’m not willing to say that until I’ve had a look around. Go home, Ben.”

  “I think I’ll stick around,” I said. “I want to see what you find out.”

  “What makes you think I’ll tell you anything, even if I do find something out?”

  “I can hope, can’t I?”

  She didn’t say anything as she headed into the house. I waited outside, half expecting Ralph Haller to come out and accuse me of attempted murder.

  Where was Ralph? The ambulance’s sirens and flashing lights should have brought him out like a shot. If he was home.

  I decided to walk over there and nose around. Maybe he’d left something in plain sight that he shouldn’t have.

  I walked to the front door, rang it twice, then pounded on the frame. “Ralph. It’s Ben Perkins. I need to talk to you.”

  Nothing. I peered in through the side window, but though the curtain was still askew, I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The place was still a mess, and it made looking for clues even harder. I decided to get a better view, so I walked around to the side of the house and tried to look in one of the windows. From next door, I heard Molly shout from the porch, “Get away from there. Do I have to arrest you for trespassing to keep you out of trouble?”

  “I’m just looking for Ralph,” I said.

  “Well stop peeping in through his windows, will you?”

  She walked back into the house, and I started toward my oar when Ralph’s trash can caught my eye. He’d already wheeled it to the curb, and I found myself wondering if he’d thrown anything incriminating away. I flipped the lid off the can and grabbed the top bag. If he’d done anything lately, it would be in that bag. At least it didn’t reek. I drove off before Molly could arrest me for stealing garbage and leaded back to the soap shop. I would have liked the privacy of my apartment to sort through Ralph’s trash— especially if it turned out to be a dead end—but there was no way I was going to spread his refuse out on my coffee table.

  I parked on the fresh asphalt in back and took a cardboard box out of the recycling bin. Cindy was a nut for saving the environment every chance she could, and I’d found that she’d actually started to convert me to her side. I cut the cardboard until I had a large, flat surface and tore the bag open.

  At first glance, there was nothing there worth seeing. I look a stick and sorted through take-out bags from every fast-food joint in town, and I wondered if the man ever ate a meal he’d prepared himself. I was one of the world’s worst cooks, but I still managed to feed myself better than that. The problem was that all of the takeout refuse obscured the rest of the trash. I ducked inside the shop, grabbed a pair of work gloves and a trash bag, then started back outside.

  Jeff was there working by himself, and I thought he was going to ignore me completely when he asked, “Cleaning up the landscaping, Ben?”

  “Something like that,” I said, without explaining myself any further. I wasn’t quite ready to apologize for my earlier behavior yet.

  Back outside, I started tossing the wrappings from Ralph’s meals in the fresh bag, and by the time I’d gotten rid of everything in that category, I had nearly cleaned off the cardboard. There were a few wadded up paper towels that I almost chucked as well when I saw that one of them was coated with some kind of grayish black material. After pulling that aside, I went through the rest of the trash, but didn’t find anything else.

  As I chucked the trash bag into the Dumpster, Jeff finally came out. “Okay, I give up. What are you up to?”

  Instead of answering his question directly, I handed him the paper towel. “Does that look familiar to you?”

  Jeff grabbed it, studied the stains for a second, then held it up to his nose. “It’s got some kind of chemical base,” he said, “but I can’t say more than that. You know who you should ask?” I’d expected him to say Bob, but he said, “Jim would probably know what it is.”

  “Not Bob?”

  “He might know,” Jeff admitted, “but he’s in Charlotte trying to find a new main burner. The old one’s just about shot.” We melted a great deal of soap aggregate on our production line, and I knew the burner was crucial to our operation.

  “So where’s Jim?” I asked.

  “He’s in Charlotte with Bob,” Jeff said, trying to hide a growing smile.

  “You nit,” I said, happy for a taste of the old relationship I’d had with my brother before he’d started dating Molly.

  “Listen, we need to talk,” I said.

  “Do we have to?”

  “I do if I’m going to apologize. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but I’m sorry for the way I’ve been behaving, okay?”

  He looked at me as if he was waiting for the punch line.

  “I’m serious,” I said. “You should be able to date whoever you want without worrying about me. Do you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “I understand where you’re coming from.”

  I nodded, then said, “Now, are you ready to apologize to me?”

  He looked at me cryptically, so I explained. “You’ve been walking around here like the head rooster in the henhouse. Maybe you should take it down a notch or two, okay?”

  “Has it been that obvious?” he asked.

  “Not unless you’re blind,” I answered.

  “Sorry about that,” he said.

  I put an arm around his neck, gave it an affectionate hug, then released him and said, “You’re forgiven.”

  I started inside, and he followed me. Grabbing a plastic baggie, I stuffed the paper towel into it and sealed it. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I wanted to ask one of my other brothers before I threw it away. I hadn’t been wrong about digging through Ralph’s trash. Maybe I’d just got the wrong bag.

  I headed back out the rear exit when Jeff asked, “Where are you going?”

  “Trash can diving,” I said. “Want to come along?”

  “No, thanks.”

  This time I was going to get every bag out of his can, but just as I got there, the garbage truck was pulling away from Ralph’s house. I’d just missed them.

  I was going to give up when I heard Molly hail me from the front porch of the Joy house. “Are you still here?”

  Instead of telling her about my trash scavenging, I said, “Did you honestly think I’d give up that easily?”

  She looked around, saw that no one was watching us, then said, “You might as well come on in. I know you’ll never stop bugging me until I let you see what’s inside.”

  I raced up the sidewalk toward her. Before she’d let me inside, she said, “First things first. You are not to touch anything, do you understand? If I catch you so much as breathing on something in this house, I’
m going to lock you up for the fun of it. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “Come on in, then.”

  I followed her into the house, but we didn’t have to go far once we were inside. There were seven or eight empty pill bottles sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and a nearly empty quart of whiskey beside them.

  “He wasn’t taking any chances, was he?” I asked in a hushed tone. “Was there a note?”

  “They don’t always leave notes, Ben,” she said.

  “Hey, take it easy. I was just asking.”

  Molly shook her head. “No, no note. So what do you think happened?”

  I studied the scene, then said, “My guess is he killed his dad, then couldn’t live with the guilt. But I don’t get it. You know Andrew. Can you honestly imagine him passing up the opportunity to get the last word in?”

  Molly looked down at the tableau again. “You’ve got a point. I’ll be interested to hear what he says about it. You know, he might deny it was a suicide attempt at all if they manage to revive him. I’ve heard half a dozen people who were clearly trying to kill themselves come up with the most bizarre explanations of how it was all just an accident.”

  “So what do we do in the meantime? Are you going to have everything dusted for fingerprints?”

  “This isn’t a television program, Ben,” she said.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind this is exactly what it looks like.”

  “Well, there’s doubt in mine. At least collect the bottles and have them checked. That’s not too tough to do, is it?”

  “Will it get you off my back?” she asked.

  “It’s a start,” I admitted. Molly pulled a few bags out of her kit and collected the bottles. “Don’t forget the whiskey,” I said.

  She didn’t say a word, but the look she shot me was more than enough to convey her thoughts.

  “Now what?” I asked her.

  “I take this to the lab and have them dust for prints. Then we wait to see if Andrew comes out of it. Come on, let’s go.”

  “You go ahead,” I said. “I want to look around a little more.”

  She grabbed my arm and walked me out of the house.

  “Hey, it was worth a shot,” I said.

  “Do you really think so?”

  I stopped on the front steps. “Molly, how did you hear about this?”

  “The dispatcher called me and told me an ambulance was on its way. Why?”

  I scratched my chin. “I’m just wondering. Who called them? If Andrew was trying to kill himself, why did he dial 911? If someone else was in on it, why screw it up? Did they get cold feet?”

  She frowned at me, and I knew that despite her expression, I’d made a point worth considering.

  “Hang on a second.” She walked to her squad car, picked up the mike, and had a brief conversation.

  As she rejoined me, she said, “It turns out that he called it in himself. From the sound of it, Andrew had second thoughts.”

  “So it was a dead end,” I said.

  “No, I should have asked the same question myself. You’re not as dim as you usually seem, Ben.”

  “I’m all aglow with your kind words,” I said as I got into my Miata and watched her drive off. Frankly, I didn’t know what else to do. Until Andrew came out of it, if he ever did, we wouldn’t know what had forced him to such drastic measures. What would be a better reason to commit suicide, though, than if he’d killed his own father? Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one.

  I would have loved to talk to Ralph, but his car was still missing from his driveway, and I had no idea when he might come home. Did I really want to be the one who told him that Andrew had tried to kill himself? There was little doubt in my mind that when he heard about what had happened, the man would somehow try to blame me for it.

  It was getting late, so I decided to swing by Diana’s bookstore to see if I could cash that rain check for dinner I’d taken earlier.

  She was just locking up as I parked in front of the store. “That’s some bad timing, isn’t it?” I asked as she turned and saw me approach.

  “I don’t mind opening back up for you,” she said. “Are you looking for something to read?”

  “Actually, I was hoping your offer to go to The Hound Dog was still open.”

  “Sorry, I’ve already eaten,” she said, “but there’s always room for dessert. How about some pie? My treat.”

  “That’s hardly a fair exchange for the dinner I provided,” I said, smiling at her. “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

  She pretended to think about it, then said, “I’ll throw in a scoop of ice cream, but that’s my best offer.”

  I held the passenger door of the Miata open for her. “Now you’re talking.”

  We found a booth near a window at The Hound Dog, and I helped Diana take her jacket off.

  Ruby approached us, and I said, “Let’s clear a few things up first. I’m here on a date with this young lady, and she’s paying.”

  Ruby studied Diana for a second, then said, “How did he trick you into that?”

  “He took me to The Lakeside Inn for dinner,” Diana said.

  “That sounds like a fair trade to me,” Ruby said. She pointed her pencil at me and held her pad up. “What will you have?”

  “I’ll take a slice of cherry pie, and top it with some vanilla ice cream.”

  Diana replied, “That sounds good to me. Make it two.”

  Ruby said, “Coming right up. Any requests for the juke box?”

  I said, “What do you think, Diana?”

  She slid a quarter across the table. “How about your cafe’s namesake?”

  Ruby winked at her. “That’s my girl. Excellent choice.”

  A minute later Elvis was singing about hound dogs. I said, “I hope that’s not directed at me.”

  Diana laughed, a sound I was growing to love. “I figured it was Ruby’s favorite. Why else name her business after it?”

  We chatted about a few little things as we waited for our pie, but Andrew’s name didn’t come up. The last thing I wanted to talk about was his botched suicide attempt. I wanted to get away from all of that and enjoy my time with Diana.

  Ruby brought our plates, the slices properly topped with ice cream.

  Diana’s spoon poised over the top. “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Why on earth not?” I asked as I took a bite.

  “I’m constantly counting calories,” she admitted.

  “I don’t see why. I think you look great. As a matter of fact, you could use an extra pound or two.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, but you’re lying. Still, that’s all the encouragement I need.” She took a bite, then said, “That’s incredible.”

  “Garnet makes her own crust in back,” I said. “She and Ruby are quite a team.”

  After we finished our desserts, I reached for the check, out of habit more than anything else.

  Diana snatched it away before I could get it. “Hey, I’m picking that up, remember?”

  “I’m just hoping if I buy tonight, you’ll invite me out someplace else tomorrow night.”

  She frowned. “I would if I could, but Rufus actually has a date himself, if you can believe that. I’m watching the store by myself. Can we do it another night?”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  I drove Diana back to her shop. “You don’t have to get out,” she said. “I’m parked over there.”

  I popped out of my door. “Hang on a second.” As I opened her door, I asked, “I’m sorry, now what did you say?”

  She grinned. “You heard me. How gallant of you to walk me to my car.”

  I followed her, then asked, “How else am I going to get a good-night kiss? This did qualify as a date, didn’t it?”

  She turned into my arms and kissed me as her answer. After a few seconds, she said, “What do you think?”

  “I think pie’s my new favorite dessert,” I said.
/>
  She giggled and opened her door. “Thanks for tonight. That was fun.”

  “It was indeed.” After she drove off, I saw a car start up and drive away right after she did. It had been sitting there the entire time I’d been with Diana, but I hadn’t noticed it until it was gone.

  It was Kelly’s car. Either by accident or design, she’d seen me kiss Diana good night. I felt a pang about it, but there wasn’t anything I could do, so I drove home. Before going to bed, I called the hospital to check on Andrew’s condition. They wouldn’t tell me anything, so I asked if Terri was there. She was, and soon picked up the telephone.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked her.

  “I’m surprised you care,” she said. “When did you suddenly get so concerned about my brother’s well being?”

  “I saw the ambulance, and I watched them take him to the hospital,” I said. “I don’t want to see him dead, Terri, despite what you may think.”

  She softened slightly. “Sorry, I overreacted. They’re not sure yet. He’s in a drug-induced coma, and the doctor just told me right now all we can do is wait and see.”

  “I hope he pulls through,” I said. It was true there was no love lost between Andrew and me, but I was hoping if he came to, he’d confess so that we could all put the murder behind us.

  “That’s sweet of you,” she said.

  “By the way, I saw your stepmother leaving the jewelry store this afternoon. I thought she left town for good.”

  “What are you talking about? She never came by, not when I was working.”

  “Terri, I saw her. I admit the disguise was a decent one, but no one else in Harper’s Landing wears Capri pants like those.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ben. Thanks for calling,” she said, then hung up.

  That was odd. Why would she deny Linda Mae’s visit, when I’d seen her myself? Could she be hiding something? I wondered if Linda Mae was pursuing another angle, since she’d given up on the legal one. Could she know something about Earnest Joy that would be worthy of blackmail, even after the man’s death?