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

by Tim Myers

  So where did that leave me? Monique looked more and more like another intended victim of Jerry Sanger’s killer. There was just no way I was going to buy the robbery coincidence. Why Monique, though? Was someone going after her rivals after she’d taken care of the lothario himself? If that were true, I wondered how long it would take Molly to focus on Louisa again. Then it struck me that if the killer was going after Jerry’s other lady friends, Louisa had to be pretty high up on their list. I dialed the shop’s number on my cell phone as soon as I was outside. After having Kate patch me through to Jim, I told my brother, “Listen, I need you and Bob and Jeff to keep an eye on Louisa.”

  “What’s she going to do, party tricks?”

  “Jim, this is serious. Monique’s been hurt, and I’m starting to wonder if somebody is going after Jerry Sanger’s other girlfriends.”

  “Got it. Don’t worry, we’re on it.” Jim hung up abruptly, and I felt immensely better. My brother may not have been the world’s most diplomatic fellow, but I knew when it came to our family, he wouldn’t let me down.

  Not having Louisa to worry about left my mind free to consider the other possibilities. I needed to dig a little deeper into Jerry Sanger’s love life, as repugnant as the idea was to me. So who knew him the best? Did he have any drinking buddies? Was there someone he played tennis with? There had to be a male friend somewhere, but how was I going to track him down? I considered calling Molly and asking her, then rejected the idea just as quickly. Most likely she wasn’t in the mood to share that kind of information with me. I couldn’t very well call Jerry’s boss, but then a thought struck me. I could call one of his competitors. After all, I knew some of the suppliers hung out together after hours. Maybe one of them could help.

  It took four phone calls and two dead ends before I finally tracked John Labott down. John supplied us with molds for our soaps, a range of sizes and shapes that was truly staggering.

  “John, this is Ben Perkins.”

  His voice was easy and affable, a perfect salesman’s pitch. “Hi, Ben. Are you out of molds already? Funny you should call; I’ve been meaning to stop by your shop. I’ve got a new line that’s going to knock your socks off.”

  I wanted to talk to him, but I wasn’t about to ambush him during a sales call. “Come by some time next week and I’ll have a look. The reason I’m calling isn’t about business, though. Well, not entirely. Not at all, I guess.”

  “Okay, I’m intrigued. What can I do for you?”

  “There’s something I need to know. How well did you know Jerry Sanger?”

  He hesitated, then said, “Yeah, I just heard about what happened to him. We weren’t exactly friends, but we got along okay.”

  I had been hoping for more than that. From the tone of John’s voice, I doubted he’d spent any more time around Jerry Sanger than he’d had to. “Do you have any idea who his best friend was?”

  John took some time to think about my question, then said, “I don’t know much about his personal life. Do you mean in the business? Well, I’m guessing it had to be Steve Erickson. They were always drinking together at Suds whenever I was in there.” Suds was the name of a bar thirty miles from Harper’s Landing in a town named Fiddler’s Gap. “Why, what’s up?”

  “It’s not that important. I was just curious.”

  John said, “So why are you nosing around? That’s not like you. Oh no, please tell me they don’t think Louisa had anything to do with this.”

  Now how did he know that? “I won’t lie to you; she’s a suspect at the moment.”

  John snorted in disgust. “That’s crazy. She never should have been with him in the first place. Your sister was way too good for that snake.”

  “You know that, and so do I. Truth be told, she probably did, too. There wasn’t much I could do to stop her though. You know my sister; she’s always had a mind of her own.”

  John hesitated, then said, “Listen, if there’s anything I can do to help, and I mean anything, all you have to do is ask.”

  There was something I’d suspected for years, and now was as good a time as any to ask. “John, you like her yourself, don’t you?”

  He blustered a little, then finally said, “I’m fond of your entire family, Ben.”

  I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. John, why didn’t you ever ask her out yourself?”

  He sighed, then admitted, “I did. Once. She shot me down.”

  “Give her a few weeks and try again. I’ve got a feeling she might be more receptive this time.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I might seem like this outgoing guy when it comes to selling, but in my personal life, I’m pretty shy. It takes a lot for me to get my nerve up.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said, “but isn’t it worth a try?”

  He paused a few seconds, then said, “Maybe. Yeah, maybe it is. See you soon, Ben.”

  “Good-bye, John, and thanks for your help.” So Sanger hadn’t been the only supplier interested in my sister. Louisa had opted for the wrong man, in my opinion. Sure, John wasn’t as flashy or as smooth as Jerry had been, but those were points in his favor, in my opinion, not against him. I’d have to mention something to Louisa about the fact that John might ask her out. I wanted her to think about her response before she even heard the question.

  I got Erickson’s cell phone number from Cindy back at the shop. After she gave me the number, I asked, “So how did it go with my class?”

  “Come on, Ben, even I could handle that much.”

  “Hey, I know you could do it all. I’m just sorry I put you in that position.”

  Cindy started to say something when I heard Mom’s voice behind her calling her name. “Gotta go. Bye.”

  “Bye,” I said, then called Steve Erickson. I got his voice mail saying he was finished for the day and that I should leave a message.

  I had a pretty good idea where he’d be, thanks to John’s tip. It was probably close to drinking time for Steve Erickson, so I decided to drive over to Suds and see if I could track him down.

  At first I thought I was at the bar too early. The place was just starting to fill up, but I couldn’t find Steve among the late afternoon drinkers. I was just about to give up when I saw him saunter out of the men’s room. He spotted me before I could approach him.

  “Ben Perkins, I didn’t know you drank here,” he said as he slapped me on the back hard enough to jar my fillings.

  I tried to generate a little enthusiasm in seeing him myself, but I wasn’t as good a salesman as he was. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? I was running an errand for the shop and decided to duck in for a beer. Can I buy you one?”

  He said, “I haven’t turned a free one down yet, and I’m not about to start now.” He held two fingers up to the bartender, and a few seconds later we had a pair of glasses in front of us. I paid the bartender, a heavyset man with a bushy beard, as I tried to decide how to handle Steve. I’d been all set to interrogate him when I’d stepped into the bar, but I decided to use his mistaken impression to my benefit.

  I held my glass up toward him and said, “Here’s to Jerry Sanger.”

  “To Jerry,” Steve said, and then he drank deeply, killing half of his beer with one extended swallow. “It’s a sad thing, isn’t it?” I asked after I’d taken a much more moderate sip.

  ‘Truer words were never spoken. It’s an absolute shame.” He spun his glass around on the coaster in a seasoned move that I guessed he’d had a lot of practice at.

  I took another small sip, then asked, “Any idea who might have done it?”

  “I’ve got a theory or two.”

  “Anything you’d care to share with me?” I asked.

  “I’m not really sure why you’re asking me.” He drained the rest of his beer and ordered another. I’d barely touched mine, but he signaled the bartender for two more anyway. Maybe he was going to drink them both.

  I pushed a littl
e harder. “I’m curious, aren’t you? Who do you think killed him?”

  Steve took a healthy swallow of his fresh beer, then said, “You know something, Ben? You’re the last person in the world I should be talking to about this.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  He snorted once. “Come on, he was dating your sister, along with half a dozen other women on his route.”

  I took another sip to buy some time, then said levelly, “Hey, Louisa’s a big girl. What she did in her personal time was none of my business. So Jerry had a lot of girlfriends, did he?”

  Steve shrugged. “Let’s just say our old pal Jerry was fond of dating the women on his route. Not me; that’s a sure way to get yourself in a bind. I never mix business with pleasure.”

  “Do you know anybody in particular he was seeing— besides Louisa, I mean?”

  He stared at his beer for a few seconds, then said, “It would be a shorter list to name the ones he wasn’t making time with. You know, I really shouldn’t be talking about this with you.” He finished his beer, then said, “That’s my limit, I’ve got to be heading out.”

  “Where are you off to? I’ve got some time on my hands. I’d like to discuss your other theories with you.” I couldn’t let him get away, at least not until I got some specific names from him.

  He slapped me on the shoulder again, even harder than the last blow. “Sorry, Pal, maybe another time. Right now I’ve got a big date with a waitress at the bowling alley down the street. See you around.”

  I didn’t let go of his arm.

  “Tell me who you suspect fast, then.” I didn’t want him to leave before I at least had an idea what he was talking about.

  “You’re persistent, aren’t you? Let’s just say Jerry had his ladle in lots of different pots and leave it at that. Now like I told you, I’m late.” He pulled away from my grip, and I let him.

  “Good-bye,” I said. It appeared that Steve Erickson didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about. Coming to Suds had turned out to be just another dead end.

  The bartender approached and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, I’m set.”

  He wiped the bar down and made Steve’s empty glass disappear, then finally said in a near whisper, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I nearly choked on that toast of yours.”

  “Why, weren’t you a big fan of Jerry Sanger?”

  “Jerry was all right,” the bartender said. “It just burned me the way Erickson matched glasses with you.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  He looked around, then leaned across the bar toward me. “Four days ago, I heard him threaten to kill Jerry right where you’re sitting. Kind of a coincidence that Jerry turned up dead, isn’t it?”

  I felt my skin prickle. “What were they arguing about?”

  “What do you think? It was over some woman, near as I could make out. I didn’t catch a name, but I had to slam my baseball bat down on the bar to get their attention. And now he’s toasting the man’s memory He’s got a lot of nerve, if you ask me.”

  I thanked him for the information and bumped up my tip before I left even though I left a full beer there in front of me. It was time to head back to Harper’s Landing. The drive to Where There’s Soap flew by; I had plenty to think about along the way. Steve Erickson had just made it to my list of suspects, and he was climbing high with everything

  I heard. Had his little comments about Jerry been his way of taking suspicion off his own behavior? He might have had more reason to wish his competitor harm than he’d been willing to let on. I couldn’t keep what I’d just discovered to myself, but I had no idea how I was going to tell Molly exactly how I’d come by my new information.

  I didn’t have much time to think about it when I got back, either. Molly’s squad car was in front of Where There’s Soap when I drove up, and I knew I had to tell her the second I saw her.

  Chapter 8

  I was surprised to find Molly standing on the front porch when I drove up. Normally I parked in back with the rest of the family, but I could see that she wouldn’t like it if I did; that, so I whipped the Miata into a spot beside her squad car.

  As I approached her, she said, “So the wanderer returns. Ben, have you given up soapmaking altogether?”

  “There was somewhere else I had to be,” I said.

  For a second I thought she was going to ask me what I’d been up to, but for some reason it appeared that she’d changed her mind. “I bet. So how was Monique?”

  “Which one of my darling siblings told you where I was this afternoon?”

  She laughed. “Don’t be so paranoid. A cop spotted you going into Monique’s room and called me. It’s still my case, too, remember? So what did she have to say? From the way I heard it, she was making everybody in sight miserable, and then you showed up and charmed her.”

  “What can I say—it’s a gift I have to use with caution.”

  Molly didn’t laugh; she didn’t even smile at my joke. “And she said...”

  “Do you want the truth? She wanted to thank me for helping her,” I said.

  Molly didn’t look like she believed it for a second, but I wasn’t about to elaborate.

  Finally she said, “You were certainly gone a long time just visiting Monique.”

  I thought about keeping the bartender’s tip about Steve Erickson to myself out of sheer cussedness, but changed my mind the second it occurred to me. It was, after all, Molly’s job to follow up on the lead and not mine.

  “I did find something out that might be a help,” I said.

  “Benjamin Perkins, I told you to stop digging into this.” Her cheeks were flushed, and from her stance, I could tell she was honestly upset.

  “I wasn’t looking all that hard,” I said, “but you’re right, it’s none of my business. I’ll leave you to it. Sorry I said anything.”

  I tried to walk past her, but she stepped in front of me. “You know better than that. Give.”

  I didn’t like her tone of voice, and I’d never been a big fan of taking orders from anybody. “You know what? You could be a little nicer about all this. I thought we were friends, or have you forgotten about that completely?”

  Molly took a deep breath, then said, “This is a murder investigation. I can’t tiptoe around you just because we date sometimes.”

  “Molly, I’m not looking for any special consideration here. Just treat me with the courtesy you would a stranger and we’ll be fine.”

  She nodded. “That shouldn’t be hard; I’ve never met anyone stranger than you.” Though she’d tried to joke her way out, her tone and manner with me still stung. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever ask her out again after the way she’d been behaving lately.

  “Don’t make me say please, Ben,” she said.

  “Okay. I stopped off at Suds, you know that bar in Fiddler’s Gap? While I was there, I ran into a guy named Steve Erickson. He’s one of our suppliers, too, and we had a toast to Jerry’s memory.”

  “Is there a point to this somewhere?”

  “Give me a second, would you?” Now I was really getting irritated. True, I was trying to help save my sister’s hide, but did that mean Molly had to be so stiff-necked about the whole thing? “After Steve left, the bartender told me that Erickson had threatened to kill Sanger four days ago, right in front of him.”

  Molly took a notebook from her breast pocket and said, “Steve Erickson, you say? Do you happen to know where he lives?”

  “No, but I’ve got his company name and his cell phone number. I didn’t get the bartender’s name either, but he’s a pretty big guy with a bald head and a full beard; he’s kind of hard to miss.”

  “Okay, that I can use. I’ll look into this.”

  As she drove away, I called out, “You’re welcome,” but she was already gone. I never did find out why Molly had been out to Where There’s Soap in the first place. I guessed it wasn’t as important as the lead I’d just dropped i
n her lap.

  The shop was just closing as I walked in. Cindy was at the door switching the sign as I crossed the threshold.

  “So how’s the competition?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t say; I didn’t realize we had any. Oh, you’re talking about Monique? She’s going to be fine. From the sound of things, she’s back in her usual foul mood, so she must not be feeling all that bad.” I looked around the store and saw Mom in her office upstairs going over the day’s receipts with Kate. No doubt Bob, Jim, and Jeff were in back shutting down the line. That left one sibling unaccounted for. “Where’s Louisa?”

  “She’s in the break room with Kelly.”

  “Has something new happened?” Molly’s visit to Where There’s Soap might not have had anything to do with me after all.

  “Molly wanted to question her again, and Kelly insisted on being here for it. They’ve been holed up back there most of the afternoon. In fact, Molly just left.”

  “Yeah, I ran into her outside.”

  I lingered around the break room door, pretending to straighten the shelves as I waited for them to appear. After ten minutes of checking the same stock half a dozen times, the door opened and both women walked out. Louisa was smiling, a good sign if I’d ever seen one. I said, “Hello, ladies.”

  “Hi, Ben,” Louisa said, then turned to Kelly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “You can count on it,” Kelly said.

  After my sister was gone, I asked Kelly, “Are there any new developments?”

  “Now, Ben, you know I can’t discuss anything going on with the case,” she said as she shook her head slightly, smiling at me the entire time.