by Tim Myers
As I drove to my apartment, sudden fat raindrops started pounding down on my windshield and the ragtop of my Miata. It leaked around the edges—I’d never owned a convertible that didn’t—and by the time I arrived at my apartment, the humidity inside the car was nearly 100 percent. I owned a perfectly good umbrella. The only problem was that it was two hundred yards away, hanging in my closet. I grabbed the morning newspaper from the floor and tried to shield myself from the brunt of the downpour as I ran for my door, but I was still pretty wet by the time I slipped inside my apartment.
I was drying my hair with a towel when I noticed that there was a message on my machine. It was Monique, and from the sound of her voice, I was willing to bet she’d been drinking most of the evening. “Ben, where are you? Call me, you’ve got my number. Bye.”
I dialed her number, let it ring a dozen times, then killed the connection. Was she sleeping, or had she gone out? Passed out, most likely. I hit redial and tried again, resolved to keep trying until morning if I had to. That’s when I realized that her machine must have been turned off. I kept waiting for the message to kick in, but the ringing never stopped. As a game, I counted the rings as I moved around my apartment waiting for an answer. On the forty- seventh ring, I finally heard a groggy voice answer. “Whassit?”
“Monique, it’s Ben.”
“Ben? Goway.”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk to me, remember?” I didn’t even know if I was getting through to her, but I had to try. Maybe if she was half lit, she might tell me something she wouldn’t disclose under ordinary circumstances.
“Too late. Too late.”
“Too late for what, Monique?”
There was a hesitation, a sob, and then the connection broke. I’d have to try her again the next day; she was in no condition to share much of anything until she had a chance to sober up. As I got ready for bed, I couldn’t help wondering what she’d meant by it being too late. Had it been too late to call, or was it something much more dire than that?
At 3:00 a.m., my telephone rang. I knocked the receiver off the stand in my stupor, and by the time I could say hello, the caller was gone. I debated hitting 69 to call whoever it was back, but I knew if I did that, I’d never get back to sleep. Most likely it was just Monique wanting some company for her drunken stupor. Well, she wasn’t my girlfriend and never would be, and I’d taken no special vow to be her confidante, chum, or pal. I tried to salvage what little chance I had left at dozing back off and promised myself I’d deal with her in the morning.
It felt like I’d just gotten back to sleep when the alarm clock jarred me awake four hours later. I considered hitting the snooze button, but if I was going to help Louisa, I’d have to do it before the store opened. I had a busy morning planned helping my brothers fill an order, a big one that Mom had taken herself. In the afternoon, my class of neophytes met again for their second lesson. That left precious little time to sift through Jerry Sanger’s troubles. I glanced out the window and saw that the rain had tapered off to a mist. It had to have been pounding down for the better part of the night, though. There was standing water in the parking lot of my complex, something that happened only after a long and steady rain.
I felt better after a long, hot shower, and as soon as I got dressed, I hit 69 to see if I could wake up whoever had called the night before.
I’d been expecting to hear Monique’s groggy voice when the other party picked up, so I nearly dropped the telephone when I heard Kate’s voice answer on the second ring.
“Louisa?” my sister asked anxiously.
“It’s Ben. Somebody called me at 3:00 a.m. and then hung up on me. I never dreamed it could have been you.”
Kate’s voice caught a little, and then she said, “It wasn’t me, but I’ve got a pretty good idea who it was. Louisa came over to spend the night. When I went to bed, she was safely tucked away in the guest bedroom, but when I got up an hour ago, she was already gone. Ben, I’m worried sick about her.”
Kate had a tendency to worry about us all, but I hoped this time it was unfounded. “Relax, Sis, she’s probably back at her apartment. You know how fierce Louisa is about holding onto her independence.”
“You don’t understand. Last night she told me how happy she was to be staying with us. Why would she leave without a word to me where she was going, and why would she call you in the middle of the night?”
Kate had me there. “Those are all good questions, but I don’t have any answers.”
“Will you look for her, Ben? Please?”
I wanted to tell her that I had to follow up on Jerry’s life if I was going to help get Louisa out of Molly’s crosshairs, but I couldn’t do that if I was chasing my sister all over North Carolina. Then again, I needed to know what Louisa was up to, and if Kate’s suspicions were right that she’d gotten herself into more trouble, I needed to intervene before it got any worse.
“I’ll find her,” I said. “Tell Mom I won’t be in today until my class starts.”
“I’ll be happy to teach your class for you,” Kate said.
“Thanks, I might just take you up on it. If I haven’t tracked Louisa down by then, I’m going to have to call Molly. She’s a lot better at this than I am.”
“She may be, but she doesn’t know Louisa like you do.” She paused, then added, “Try the dam; I know she goes there sometimes to think.”
“I thought they’d shut that road down months ago,” I said.
“They did, but there’s a back way by Fletcher’s Pond that takes you right to it.”
“I’d forgotten all about that,” I said. “I haven’t been that way since I was a teenager. I’ll go take a look.”
“Hurry, Ben. I’m afraid.”
“She’s fine, Kate, don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as I find her.”
“Bless you.”
After I hung up with Kate, I grabbed my hiking boots from the closet. I hadn’t been on that road in ages, but with the rains we’d been having lately, I was sure it would be treacherous footing. If there was one place in the world I didn’t want to be slipping around in the mud, it had to be near the dam. What was normally a peaceful flow during much of the year could turn into roaring falls in an instant; I knew that from the past. If Louisa was going to hurt herself, something I tried not to believe, throwing herself into the raging river would probably be her style. Despite my assurances to Kate. I rushed out the door to search for sister, hoping and praying that if she had decided to do something rash, I wouldn’t be too late to save her.
Chapter 5
As I drove near Fletcher’s Pond, I spotted Louisa’s Jeep parked in the brush behind the Granger’s bam. I pulled my Miata right beside it, hoping I wouldn’t need a tow truck to free my car from the muddy ground. I took a few seconds to change into my hiking boots before I climbed out into the mud, then I locked up the Miata, though I knew it wouldn’t do much good if someone was determined to break in. Door locks on a convertible with a ragtop only keep honest folks out.
As I rushed up the path to the dam, I could hear the roar over the spillway long before I spotted the first glimmer of water. It started as a buzzing growl in the distance and steadily grew louder as I approached. By the time I could see the water boiling up near the edge of the dam, I wondered how the concrete and steel could hold back the force of the water as it pushed and shoved to get past. It was nearly to the edge of its containment. How long could it hold the torrent back? It took me a second to spot Louisa, perched on the edge of the dam itself. One pulse of water and the wave would sweep her down without hesitation. What was she thinking, risking her life in such a foolish way? Or was that the point? I shouted at her, fighting to get her attention, but my voice was drowned out by the thunder of the water. I tried waving my hands to catch her attention, but it was no use. Louisa stared resolutely at the water below her, and I felt my heart chill as I wondered if my sister was going to jump. I ran down the muddy path, the ground grabbing at my boots with eve
ry step, pulling me down, impeding me. It was as if the earth itself was fighting to keep me from my sister. I looked behind Louisa with alarm. A wall of water was rushing toward her even as I raced to Louisa. Surely it would reach her before I could. Why didn’t she look up? Forcing myself to run faster, I rushed toward the dam, but I knew I was going to be too late.
“Louisa,” I screamed again and again as I ran toward my sister.
Somehow I must have caught her attention, because she looked up at me while I was still a hundred yards away. The surge of water was closer to her than I was, and moving a great deal faster. I gestured behind her, but it took her precious seconds to understand. Suddenly she looked back, and I saw Louisa scramble off the dam and run toward me, her hat skittering off her head and landing in the spot where she’d been sitting. Louisa saw it, hesitated for a heartbeat, then abandoned it. By the time we met, the thrust of water had passed over the entire concrete rim, sweeping her hat along with it, burying it in the waves of froth and brown water far below.
She hugged me, and I could feel her shaking in my embrace. “Ben, I’m so sorry. Somehow my mind got lost in the water.”
“It’s all right,” I said as I stroked her hair.
“Thanks to you. If you hadn’t come along...” I saw her searching for her hat in the water below us, but it was gone, as if the river had swallowed it whole.
“You’re okay, Sis. What were you doing out there on the dam on a day like this, anyway?”
“It’s where I come to think. I lose myself in the water, and the sound of it. It is so powerful; it takes my mind off my troubles.” She bit her lip, then said, “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I talked to Kate this morning. She was worried when you just disappeared this morning without a word to her.”
Louisa said defiantly, “So she called our big brother to bail me out?”
I’d had about all the attitude from her I was willing to take. “Actually, I hit 69 and she answered. What was up at 3:00 a.m., and why didn’t you stay on the line when I answered the phone?”
Louisa looked embarrassed. “I thought I wanted to talk, but when I heard your voice, I knew that I’d been wrong, so I hung up. It turned out what I needed was some time alone. That’s when I got up, got dressed, and went back to my apartment. That didn’t do me much good either, so I came here at first light.”
“You shouldn’t have taken a chance like that,” I said.
“It wasn’t that bad when I got here,” she protested, and I knew it would be worse than useless to chide her about her foolish behavior anymore.
“Let’s get you home,” I said as we started the hike back to our vehicles. “You can skip work today. Everybody will understand.”
“I’m not missing a minute of it,” she said resolutely. “My only salvation in this entire insanity is working with the family and keeping busy. Being alone right now is the last thing I need.”
I knew better than to argue with her, and besides, she probably had a good point. “You still need to go home and change before work. You’re a mess.”
She said, “You’re not exactly in pristine condition yourself, Ben.”
I glanced down and saw that though I’d worn boots, the mud had still managed to splash up onto my pants. I’d have to change before I showed up for work, too, or Mom would have a fit.
“You’re right. I’ll meet you back at the shop after we both change our clothes,” I said. We were at our cars, and before Louisa got into her Jeep, she hugged me. “I’m sorry I had a little snit back there. I was scared, and I took it out on you. Thanks for watching out for me,” she said in a soft voice. It was rare enough for Louisa to apologize, and I knew better than to make light of it.
“Hey, what are big brothers for,” I said as I returned her hug.
By some miracle I got the Miata free from the muck and the mire. I went home, changed clothes, and then headed to Where There’s Soap before I took up the hunt again. Only part of the reason was because I wanted to make sure Louisa showed up and didn’t just wander off again. I was in the parking lot the family used in back of the shop before I realized that I’d neglected to call Kate and tell her I’d found Louisa.
She was hovering near the back door when I walked in, probably waiting there for me.
Before she could say a word, I said, “Don’t worry, I found Louisa and she’s fine.”
Kate nodded, and then I heard Molly say, “What do you mean, you found Louisa? I didn’t realize she was missing.”
Great, that was all I needed at the moment. “It was just a misunderstanding,” I told her. “Louisa never was lost; she knew where she was all along.” I hoped my grin would convince her to drop it.
Molly wasn’t buying it, but I was in no mood to explain Louisa’s perilous moments at the dam. Her actions could be too easily misinterpreted, especially given what had transpired the day before. It was time to change the subject, if I could. “So what brings you to Where There’s Soap?”
She said, “I came by to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
“Absolutely. Come on up,” I said, leading her to my office. Kate shrugged an apology to me as Molly walked past her, but I gave her a brief nod of understanding. I hadn’t given her much time or opportunity to warn me that the police were there.
Once Molly and I were in my office, I closed the door, just in case Mom came in. I wanted to speak to Molly in private, and we were in the only place in the entire building I could count on that happening.
“Any leads in your murder investigation?” I asked her.
Molly shook her head as she sat down in one of my chairs. “I’m not here to answer questions, Ben; I’m here to ask them.”
That wasn’t going to do at all. “Tell you what, why don’t we trade off? That way nobody walks away empty-handed. You go first.”
“Ben, this isn’t a party game. I’m investigating a murder.”
“And I’m trying to help my sister. The way I see it, we both have something at stake here.”
Molly started to get up, and I knew I’d pushed her too far. There was nothing left to do but say, “Okay, you win. Ask away.” Maybe I’d be able to get some kind of idea where she was heading by the questions she was asking. It was my only hope. I knew Molly well enough to realize she wasn’t budging on this one.
Molly accepted my surrender and asked, “First, what can you tell me about this?” She handed me a green leaf, one I immediately recognized.
“It’s lemon balm. It’s an antiseptic used in soapmaking. Where’d you find it?”
“It was in the victim’s pant cuff. Is it rare?”
“Hardly. We have some growing in our herb garden out front, but you probably already know that, don’t you?” Before Molly could jump to any conclusions, I added, “I’d be amazed if you found a soapmaking place that didn’t grow some nearby.”
“And how about this?” She handed me another small leaf.
“That’s chamomile,” I said.
“And you grow this, too?” she asked again, as if she was interrogating me.
“These are both basic ingredients in making soap, Molly. Would you like a tour of our garden? I can show you a dozen other plants we grow to use as additives. It’s a lot cheaper than buying them from a supplier, we can be sure of the quality of the plants, and besides, the garden out front brings customers in.”
Molly ignored my comment. “So Sanger could have picked these up here, is that right?”
There was no way I was going to let her focus on our shop alone. “I’ve already admitted that we grow both of those plants here, but I know I saw chamomile growing outside of A Long Lost Soap when I was there yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had lemon balm there, too. It wouldn’t even shock me if there was some growing near The Soap Bubble, or anyplace else that sells soapmaking supplies. Why don’t I go with you, and we’ll check them all out together? I told you I might be able to help you.”
She wasn’t interested in my offer. �
��Thanks, but I should be able to recognize both of these on my own now. You were smart to admit you had these on the grounds. I already found them in your garden before you came in.”
“Molly, do you still honestly believe Louisa had something to do with Jerry Sanger’s death?”
Before she spoke, Molly looked out the window down to the sales floor below, and I saw her focus on Louisa as she stocked some of the shelves with herbs we dried. With a slight sigh, she said, “I’m just following my leads, Ben, wherever they take me.”
I thought about sharing Monique’s words last night, but decided that Molly would probably discount them without further evidence to back up my suspicions that she might have had something to do with the route salesman’s murder. Besides, knowing Molly, she’d probably accuse me of interfering with her investigation, even though all I’d done was answer my phone.
“Is there anything else?” I asked.
She stood. “No, not at the moment. You don’t heat with wood here, do you?”
Now what was that all about? “We have gas heat for the building. Why?”
“Does Louisa have a fireplace in her apartment?”
I couldn’t imagine where she was going with her new questions. “You’ve got to be kidding; she barely has carpet. Why the sudden interest in Louisa’s living quarters?”
She hesitated a moment, then reluctantly admitted, “Along with the leaves, they found wood ashes in Sanger’s pant cuff.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you there.”
She stood. “It was a long shot, but I thought you might be able to help.”
“I earnestly wish I could,” I said as Molly walked out. Wood ashes meant something specific to soapmakers, but I wasn’t going to tell Molly until I had an idea how it applied to the murder. In the old days, they used to make soap by filtering rainwater through hardwood ashes to leach the lye. Based on an egg’s buoyancy in the solution, they had a good idea just how strong the lye was. Only a die-hard soapmaker still went to the trouble to leach their own lye. Until I had the chance to look around more, I wasn’t about to share that news with Molly, no matter how mad she was going to be when she found out I’d withheld information from her.
