by Tim Myers
“Some of you might think it’s too simplistic.” I grinned at Herbert, and he looked at me like he thought I was reading his mind. I continued, “What makes it your unique soap is what you include while the base is in its liquid form. You can add dyes and scents; you can even imbed objects in your soap.” I showed them some examples I’d made just for that class, including one that sported a seashell and another with a plastic frog. “We have four microwaves, so you’ll have to share. Each of you needs to get eight small cubes of the base—we’ve already cut them up for you today—then slice off some of the soap color and add it to the bowl if you’d like your soap tinted. Give it a thirty-second burst at full power, check to see if it’s melted, then nuke it five seconds at a time until it’s liquid. Select your additives—remember, a little goes a long way—then stir them into the mix and pour the liquid into the molds you’ve selected. It’s as easy as that.” I strolled around the room, working with the class as they made their first soaps. Even Herbert seemed to be pleased with his rather mundane choice of a blue square of unscented soap. “No fragrance?” I asked, smelling the blend.
“No, I wanted to try something easy the first time. It looks okay, doesn’t it?”
I patted him on the back. “It looks great.”
“Can I take it out of the mold now?”
“No, I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?” I spoke up to the class as they worked. “Your creations will take about an hour to set up. Feel free to make more. We have lots of molds to choose from, and there’s plenty of materials.” Truthfully, I didn’t care how many soaps they made. They were paying for the privilege with their class fees, and besides, that was why we offered only four microwaves. Melting the soap took time, and it was the one part of the process that couldn’t be rushed.
As the clock kept ticking closer to the end of class, I kept glancing back at the door. I had been right not to cancel the class, but I still couldn’t help wondering what was so urgent about Molly’s visit.
I waited until the second hand made its final sweep, then told the class, “That wraps up today’s session. You’re welcome to look around the shop while you wait for your creations to harden. If you don’t want to stay, I’ll be glad to take your soaps out of their molds and wrap them for you as soon as they set. That way you can pick up your handiwork tomorrow afternoon during our next class.” There were good reasons to offer them the choice; if they stayed around, most of the class members would probably browse around in the boutique and buy things in our shop. If they didn’t, having a handmade soap waiting for them next time brought them back to our place. It was a win-win situation for Where There’s Soap, a clever twist Mom had put in herself.
As I sent my students out into the shop, I started cleaning up the mess that was always left behind after a soapmaking session. I was just finishing up when Molly came in, an agitated expression on her face that spelled trouble for me.
“Since when did you start butting into my business?” Molly demanded without saying hello.
Ordinarily I wouldn’t stand for that tone of voice from her, but I knew she had every reason in the world to be upset with me if she had any idea what I was up to. I just wasn’t sure how much she knew at this point. I offered her my best grin. ‘That depends. How long have you known me?”
I didn’t even get the ghost of a smile in response, so I knew she was really angry. “Save your charm for someone else, Ben; this is serious. You had no right going to those two shops ahead of me. I could lock you up for obstruction of justice.”
“Why, just because I visited some of my competitors today?”
She frowned. “No, for tipping my hand and telling both women about Sanger before I could. When I interview people, I’m interested in more than what they say. I study body language, mannerisms, tone of voice. I’m trained to do this, and you’re not. Ben, this behavior is completely unacceptable. How am I supposed to run an investigation with you mucking things up playing amateur detective?”
Okay, she had a point. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Mom was upset, and she wanted me to talk to a few people in the business. Come on, you know what a force she can be when she puts her mind to it.”
“You can’t go digging into this case. I mean it.”
I held my wrists out to her. “You’re right, but there’s only one way you can be sure of stopping me. You’d better go ahead and lock me up.”
She rolled her eyes, a sight I was long used to. “Spare me the dramatics.” Molly frowned a second, then asked, “So how did they react when you told them Sanger was dead?”
I shared my observations with her, then I added, “You know, you might be able to use me on this.”
She barely acknowledged my offer with a glance. “How do you figure that?”
“Molly, you’re a great cop, but you don’t know anything about the soapmaking world. I know the processes, and more importantly, I know the people. They might open up to me when they’d never dream of telling you anything. This happened in my world.”
“Ben, I appreciate the offer, but I’m doing fine on my own.” She flipped her wallet open. “See? I have a badge and everything.”
She wasn’t going to be mollified, but Molly was smart. If I gave her some time to get used to the idea, I might even get her blessing for my snooping. I couldn’t stop, not with Louisa in her sights, but it would make my life a whole lot easier if Molly accepted my input. I asked, “Is that the only reason you came out here?”
She nodded. “It’s reason enough. I was so mad at you I could have spit nails. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I’ll be counting the minutes,” I said, grinning as I tweaked her arm.
After she was gone, Mom cornered me in the classroom. “Did she come to arrest your sister?”
“No, Ma’am, that visit was strictly about me. Molly wanted to read me the riot act for talking to her suspects. She was not at all pleased.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mom said, beaming.
That was entirely a matter of opinion. “What’s so great about that? I got chewed out pretty hard.”
“Don’t you see? She’s willing to consider someone else besides your sister. Keep digging, Benjamin. You always did have a knack for stirring up trouble.”
“Hey, we all have to be good at something.”
As my students wandered among the soapmaking supplies and designer soaps, I wondered how much more stirring I’d get away with before Molly actually decided to lock me up after all.
“You had a phone call,” my sister Kate told me as I walked past the checkout counter.
She handed me a sheet from the yellow pad we used for messages, but the only thing on it was Monique White’s name, The Soap Bubble’s number, and a brief note that said “Call me.”
“What did she want?” I asked.
Kate said, “She wouldn’t say. There was something odd about her voice, though.”
“Anything you could put your finger on?” My sister was as good a judge of character as anyone I’d ever known, and she’d been the only one in the family besides me who had scorned Jerry Sanger’s romantic pursuit of our sister. That alone should have told Louisa that she was making a mistake, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
Kate scrunched her lips together, something she’d done since childhood when she was searching for the right word. “She’d been crying, that was easy enough to tell, but there was more to it than that. Ben, she sounded, I don’t know, kind of lost.”
“I’d better call her back right away,” I said.
Kate looked steadily at me, then asked, “You haven’t been going out with our competition on the sly, have you, Big Brother?”
“Like I could ever keep anything from this family,” I said.
“You never know. You can be sneaky when you want to be,” Kate said.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry to report that my love life has been a bit stark lately.”
Kate said, “You know who you should ask out? Kelly Sheer. She�
�s perfect for you.”
I looked at my sister like she’d lost her mind. “You’ve got to be kidding. After the divorce she just went through, I’m sure she’s sworn off men for the rest of her life.”
Kate shook her head, then spoke in a condescending manner that the Perkins women had fully mastered when dealing with men. “Come on, don’t be dense, Ben. I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not watching. Do you honestly think it’s your vast soapmaking skills she’s so interested in?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “To be honest with you, I never really noticed.”
She sighed. “It’s a wonder you men ever do. So are you going to ask her out, or are you content living your cold and joyless little life alone until the day you die?”
“Sis, just because you’re overcome with wedded bliss doesn’t mean everyone’s searching for their soul mate.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Ben, people weren’t meant to be alone.”
I gestured around at my brothers and sisters. “How could I ever be alone with all of you? Sometimes I have to step outside to have a thought without someone else reading my mind. Besides, I’m not alone. There’s always Molly.”
Kate wasn’t buying that. “Regardless of what Mom says, if you two were going to get together, it would have happened by now. You and Molly are just using each other as crutches, and it’s not healthy for either one of you. You can’t play it safe for the rest of your life, Ben.”
“Thanks for the lecture. Kate, I know you mean well, but my love life really isn’t any of your business.”
This particular sister had never been affected by bluntness. She smiled, then said, “First you need a love life before I can snoop into it. Think about what I said.”
“Oh, I will,” I said as insincerely as I could manage.
I went upstairs to the loft where our offices were, thinking about what Kate had said despite my reply to her. Certainly Kelly Sheer was an attractive woman, and I loved the way she had thrown herself into soapmaking. She had a nice smile, too, but that didn’t mean she was interested in me, no matter what my delusional sister believed. I brushed it out of my thoughts as I dialed Monique’s number.
It rang seven times before her answering machine kicked in. I gave her my home number on the machine, told her I was sorry I’d missed her, and stuffed the note in my pocket. Was Monique calling to confess, or was there some less ominous reason for her message? I’d have to try her again later.
I looked through the paperwork on my desk, but there was nothing pressing that needed my immediate attention. Mom and I were the only ones with offices upstairs, since Grandpa had given his up years before. Whenever he did decide to come in and work, he set up shop wherever was most convenient for him, and that rarely meant his designated space. Since our offices were just over the production line, glass windows looked down on the storefront below, and I could see Herbert and his wife milling about, loaded down with enough supplies to clean our part of North Carolina. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was time to go back downstairs and finish up with the projects from my class. Their soaps would be set by now, and I knew my pupils still there were eager to take home their first efforts at soapmaking.
The sales floor was crowded, so I approached my students individually and soon had them all back to the classroom. As I showed them how to pop their soaps out of the molds by pushing from the bottom and twisting, they laughed and chatted happily, doing it themselves. “Let’s wrap these up and you’ll be ready to check out,” I said. Several of the shopping baskets were laden with supplies and soaps. It looked like another successful attempt at recruiting new soapmakers. After their soaps were wrapped, I said, “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you all tomorrow at our next class.”
Herbert and his wife Constance hesitated at the classroom door. She nudged him once before Herbert would say, “Thanks for the class.”
“So, do you mind if I ask how you liked it?” I asked, fighting my grin.
“It was pretty good, actually.” He smiled slightly, then added, “This wasn’t nearly as big a waste of time as I thought it was going to be.” He deftly stepped aside as his wife’s elbow lashed out for his gut. “I’m kidding,” Herbert explained to her. “He knows that.”
I laughed. “See you both tomorrow afternoon.”
His wife Constance was still scolding him as they approached the register.
I saw Louisa pitching in at the checkout line, bagging purchases as quickly as Cindy could ring them up, but I could tell my eldest sister wanted to be a million miles away. I grabbed Kate from the sales floor and asked, “Why don’t you give Louisa a break? I want to talk to her for a minute.”
Kate nodded, and in a minute Louisa joined me. As she approached, she said, “Kate said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Let’s take a walk,” I said.
Louisa looked around the boutique, then said, ‘There are too many customers here right now. They need me, Ben.”
“Kate and Cindy have it under control,” I said as I took her arm. “Besides, Mom can pitch in if they need an extra hand. Most of that line is from my class, and they’re on their way out. Come on, we can check out the garden and talk a little.”
I knew the herb garden in front of the shop where we raised some of our additives was one of Louisa’s favorite places in the world. A bench sat in the center of the herbs, with a small waterfall trickling under the shaded arbor. Though we were close to the road, the splashing water drowned out most of the sounds from the street. It was like taking a vacation with only twenty steps, and I’d found the retreat a great place to get away myself. Roses and scented geraniums bordered the plot, giving the whole area a floral edging. As we strolled through the rows of chamomile, lavender, verbena, mint, and sage, I asked Louisa, “How are you holding up?”
“Do you want to know the truth? I’m in shock. If this had happened yesterday, I would have been upstairs crying for weeks. As it is, I’m not sure what I feel. It’s strange, wishing someone ill and then finding it happen almost immediately, like I had some kind of macabre power.”
“I’m still your favorite brother, right?” I asked with a smile. “No bad feelings shooting my way?” Ordinarily my comment would have been in extremely poor taste, but then I didn’t have the same relationship with anyone else in the world that I had with this particular sister.
Louisa said, “You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll think good thoughts about you.” Her slight smile vanished as she added, “That phone call this morning rattled me more than I’m willing to admit. It’s been bothering me nearly as much as seeing Jerry lying there on our steps. That woman was vicious when she called.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t recognize the voice?” I asked.
Louisa said, “It was kind of familiar, but it was almost like she was disguising it, you know? I keep thinking it will come to me, but I can’t put my finger on it, at least not yet. Give me time, though, I’ll figure it out.”
That opened another worry I hadn’t considered up to that point. “Have you ever thought you might be in danger?” I asked.
“Why do you say that? I didn’t kill Jerry. I swear it.”
I shook my head. “Sis, I know you didn’t, but whoever did could have been the woman who called you. Otherwise it’s too big a coincidence to believe it happened just before Jerry died, and I’m not a big fan of happenstance.”
“So why does that put me in danger?”
“Think about it. She called you and spilled Jerry’s secret, then got mad all over again and tracked him down here. After she killed him, she decided to cover her tracks, and she had to know you might be able to identify her voice. Sis, I hate to say this, but you shouldn’t be alone until this thing is over.”
“I’m not running and hiding, Ben; I won’t do it. I think your imagination is working overtime.”
“So humor me,” I said as we sat on the bench. “Stay with somebody, even if it’s Bob.”
“I’d rather
stay with you,” she said. After a few moments of thought, she said, “You know, I could always bunk with Kate. She’s been after me to try out her new guest room for months. She’s so proud of her decorating skills.” Louisa studied me a second, then said, “The only reason I’m doing this is because I know that if I don’t, you’ll drag Mom into this.”
“Me?” I said, trying my best to look innocent.
“You.” She kept her gaze on the patch of chamomile. “Listen, I didn’t have a chance to say anything to you before, but I appreciate you looking into this mess for me. It makes me feel better knowing you’re snooping around behind the scenes.”
I put my arm around her. “Molly’s not too thrilled about it, but I can’t just stand by and let you get steamrolled into a murder charge you don’t merit.”
Her smile was brief, but it was full and bright. “Thanks, Ben, I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s like third grade all over again, isn’t it?”
I loved seeing my sister’s smile, if only for a second or two. “I wish I could make this go away as easily as I scared Calvin Evans. He shouldn’t have picked on you.”
“After you talked to him, he never did again.” She took my hands in hers and said in a deadly serious tone of voice, “Ben, make this go away. I really need you.”
“I’m doing my best,” I said. “Listen, I hate to bring this up, but I need to know more about Jerry Sanger if I’m going to figure out what happened to him. Would it hurt too much to tell me a little about him?”
“I don’t know how much help I can be, but what did you want to know?” Louisa asked quietly.
“It might help if I knew where he lived, places he liked to hang out, his friends, his enemies if you know them; anything you can tell me might make a real difference.”
“I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t know that much about his life. I was at his apartment downtown a few times. It was almost as if nobody really lived there, you know?”
“Do you mean there were boxes and things sitting all around?” I asked. “Some people take forever to unpack.”
