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

by Tim Myers

  Molly called down from my door, “Are you going to keep me waiting here all night?”

  “I’m on my way,” I said, taking the stairs two at a time.

  After I joined her inside, she said, “Ben, are you still digging into the murder?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m doing all that much digging,” I said, backpedaling. “But I have been asking a few innocent questions.”

  She gestured toward the parking lot. “I wouldn’t call I. that an innocent response, would you? You’ve got to stop, and I mean right now.”

  I’d seen that serious set to her jaw enough to know that there was more going on than she was letting on. “What are you hiding, Molly? Is there something I don’t know about?”

  She paced around the room, starting to speak half a dozen times before she finally said, “You’re not going to back off without a good reason, are you?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Why don’t you give me one and we’ll see.”

  “Ben, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll have your hide. Do you read me?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Molly said, “Okay. It’s against my better judgment, but I’m going to trust you. It seems that Jerry Sanger was distributing more than just soapmaking supplies. I’ve got a hunch he was also wholesaling drugs.”

  “Drugs? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Even with my low opinion of Jerry Sanger, I never dreamed he’d be involved in such a filthy business.

  “I wish I were, but there are some things that don’t add up. His standard of living was a great deal higher than anyone could expect, given his income. We got suspicious when we saw his bank balances and started taking a closer look at his real apartment. That place he took your sister to was not much more than a closet. His real place is pretty amazing. Sanger’s storage closet reeked of peppermint, and at first I thought he’d just spilled some samples in there. Then I started thinking maybe it was a way to throw off the drug-sniffing dogs.”

  “So what did you find?”

  She looked as sad as I’d seen her lately. “Enough drugs to prove it wasn’t for personal use. Have you heard anything about this sideline of his?”

  “I swear to you, I had no idea what he was into. Nobody in my family did either, I’d stake my life on it.”

  “How can you speak for all of them?” Molly asked. “I know you’all are close, but you can’t know everything they know.”

  “I do when it involves something that important. Do you think we’d keep doing business with him if we had the slightest suspicion he was selling drugs? No way. I’m telling you. We didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right there. Well, he was dealing it to somebody, and chances are it was along his route.”

  I remembered Monique’s sudden urge to go poking around in her attic. The squirrel story had been thin, and certainly didn’t match up with her having a gun by her side. “Try The Soap Bubble. Monique White was acting awfully strange when I saw her this afternoon. She was doing something in her attic scuttle when I walked in on her, and she pulled a gun on me before she knew who I was.”

  Molly said, “And you waited to tell me this now?”

  “Hey, she said she had a squirrel problem. I’d check her hidey-hole before she has a chance to move anything.”

  Molly raced out, and I said, “Let me know what you find.”

  She paused long enough to say, “Oh, believe me, we’re going to talk about this again soon. I’ve got to get a warrant, then round up a few deputies. That’s going to take some time. Are you going to be up?”

  “I will be now, no matter how late it gets. I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can go with you, is there?”

  She didn’t even have to stop to think about it. “Stay here. I mean it.”

  I popped some popcorn, flipped on the tube, and caught the middle of Casablanca. It was the best way I could think of to pass the time while I waited, something to distract me and keep me from hoping that by morning my sister would be out from under Molly’s cloud of suspicion.

  I hadn’t meant to doze off, but I must have. A knock at the door woke me, and I wiped my eyes as I answered.

  Molly looked mad enough to spit nails.

  “What happened?”

  “Her shop was clean, including the attic.” Molly brushed some cobwebs from her sleeve as she added, “Nobody had been up there for six months, including squirrels. There was a layer of dust all around the scuttle. The mouth on that woman made me flinch, and I’m used to some rough language.”

  How could that be? “She was up to something, I’m telling you.”

  “Well, if she was, she had time to cover her tracks.”

  I couldn’t imagine being wrong. “Were there any oil spills in her shop?”

  Molly said, “No, the place was well scrubbed. We borrowed a drug dog from Charlotte, and even he drew a complete blank.”

  “I just don’t get it,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “And I’m telling you, there were no drugs there. Her place was clean.”

  I had another thought. “Are you going to check A Long Lost Soap, too? Heather Kent might be involved, if Monique’s not.”

  Molly shook her head. “She’s a college kid working part-time at her grandparents’ shop. There’s no way she could do anything under their noses without them knowing it. Are you accusing them now?”

  “I’m not accusing anybody. Sanger had to be selling his drugs to somebody.”

  Molly said, “It looks like it probably wasn’t on his out, though. It’s a dead end from here.”

  I thought about it, trying to come up with some sign that I’d been right. “Then how do you explain my car top?”

  ‘There’s something else we haven’t considered.”

  “What? I’m willing to listen to anything at this point.”

  “Have you thought about the fact that this might be because of your love life? You’re dating Kelly Sheer, and I’ve heard there’s an ex-husband who’s not happy with the situation at all.”

  “How did you happen to just hear that?” I asked.

  “Hey, it’s a small town. Maybe that’s what the voice warned you to back away from.”

  “Then they wasted their breath,” I said. “Besides, it can’t be Kelly’s ex. He’s had their daughter for the past few days.”

  She shrugged. “Okay then, it could have been a random act of vandalism, not related to this case at all.”

  “You can’t believe that, Molly, or you wouldn’t be telling me to back off yourself.”

  Molly said fiercely, “You don’t know what you’re messing with here, Ben. By sheer dumb luck you might be putting yourself in grave danger.”

  “I won’t do anything stupid,” I promised.

  “If I could believe that, I’d sleep better at night than I have been lately. Maybe you should stay somewhere else for the next few nights.”

  “Come on, I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

  Her laugh was a short bark. “Don’t you believe that for any second. If somebody really wants to get to you, they will. You’ve got more family than the von Trapps. Go stay with one of them.”

  “I’m not leaving my apartment. I’m not afraid.”

  Molly just shook her head. “That’s the problem; you should be. I wish I could post a guard on your door, but we can barely afford the patrols we run at night.”

  “You worry too much. I’ll be fine. Thanks for coming by and bringing me up to date.”

  She got to the door, then said, “I truly am sorry about your car. I know how much it means to you.”

  “Thanks. I do appreciate that.”

  She tapped my chest, then said, “In the meantime, watch yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Molly.”

  “Then what else would I do with all my free time? Good night, Ben.”

  After she was gone, I was in no mood to go to sleep. I paced around the apartment, thinking about all the things that had happ
ened lately, and more importantly, what they meant. The fact that Jerry Sanger had been into drugs bothered me a great deal, even given the fact that I didn’t like I him before I knew that. Monique’s behavior was too odd to discount just because of the bump on her head and the assault in her store. If she was dealing the drugs Jerry was selling, could that explain the break-in? Then why hadn’t the police found any evidence of drugs on the premises? She’d been up in that attic for more than squirrel patrol, I knew it in my gut, but Molly had been sure that her shop was clean. I’d mentioned Heather to Molly more out of possibility than belief, but she was a college student, so she probably had plenty of opportunities to sell to her classmates and even possibly her professors. Everyone on Jerry Sanger’s route was suspect, even Melissa Higgins, though I couldn’t see her dealing drugs any more than I could imagine the Kents doing it. It was a nasty business that had suddenly gotten nastier, and I didn’t want to have anything to’ do with it. By the time I was ready to go to sleep, I’d almost decided to go along with Molly’s advice and leave the investigation to the professionals. I was a soapmaker, not a cop. Each to his own expertise.

  I hated driving the Miata with the slashed top and seat, but it was still better than taking the bus, or worse yet, borrowing a vehicle from one of my siblings. On the way in to Where There’s Soap the next morning. I stopped off at Samantha Locke’s office. She handled the insurance for the shop as well as our individual policies. Samantha, a tall, thin woman with jet-black hair and a ready smile, studied the slashed top and seat, then said, “Somebody’s not too fond of you, Ben. Have you jilted any women lately?”

  “No, my heart is pure,” I said. Samantha and I had been friends a long time, long enough for us to tease each other every time we spoke, even under such wholly unpleasant circumstances.

  “That’s not the way I’ve been hearing it around town,” she said. “So you finally got around to asking the lady lawyer out. How was your date the other night?”

  Great, now my insurance agent knew about my love life, there were times when a small town was just a little too small for my taste.

  “Samantha, with four kids of your own, thought you’d have more to do than keep track of my love life.”

  She smiled. “Oh, but you make a wonderful hobby, how’s Molly taking it?”

  “She’s fine. You’re not seriously asking if she was mad enough to do this, are you?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I was just kidding, but I shouldn’t have been. Has she seen this?”

  I handed Samantha a copy of the police report. “She came over last night.”

  Samantha took the paper, walked around the shredded top, then asked, “Anything else happen?”

  ‘There’s a slash in the driver’s side seat, too.”

  She examined it, then nodded. “Okay, I don’t suppose you’ve gotten any estimates yet, have you?”

  “How many do I need?” I’d dreaded the prospect of going from shop to shop when I knew I would use Harry’s place, no matter what the cost to me was. I’d known him since he’d run the Mazda dealership, and when he’d go out on his own, I’d been one of the first folks in line. He was honest, fair, and friendly, and I sent everyone I could his way.

  “Just take it to the Mazda place and one other.”

  “I want Auto Finesse to do the work.”

  She nodded. “Okay, then you can skip the dealership. Tell Harry to call me before he does anything, though. You policy covers a rental, too, but I doubt you’re going to find another Miata while yours is getting fixed.”

  “I’ll struggle through it,” I said. “Thanks, Samantha.”

  “For what?”

  “For making this as painless as possible.”

  “Hey, that’s why I’m here. Ben, if you made somebody mad enough to do this, you’d better watch your back.”

  “So I’ve been told. I’ll see you later.”

  I dropped the car off at Harry’s, and to my surprise, he had a loaner he was willing to rent to me. It was a ‘67 Mustang convertible, and though it needed a new paint job, the engine was in fine shape.

  “This is a rental?” I’d asked.

  Harry rubbed a hand through his thinning black hair. He’d been on a fitness jag lately, and I’d spotted him a few times walking around town on his lunch break. He smiled at me, then said, “Not usually, but I’m going to restore it so I thought, why not let it go out for now? Take care of it, though, will you?”

  “You have my word. When can I expect the Miata back?”

  “Give me a week,” he said. I started to protest when I caught his grin. He added, “Or if everything goes right, I could probably get it back to you by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “That would be great.”

  I drove off in the Mustang, unused to all the space I had inside. The power was there, too, and for a moment of guilty thought I considered seeing what it would take to trade up to it once it was restored, but then I decided that the Miata was fine and I should be happy with what I had. There might be one plus I hadn’t considered driving around town in the Mustang; nobody would know it was me. I might even be able to get through the day without someone threatening me or destroying my property. It was a noble goal, at any rate.

  I realized I had more problems than my transportation when I got to the shop. From the look in Kate’s eyes, I knew that something bad had happened to the Perkins family yet again.

  Chapter 13

  “This can’t be good,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  Kate looked like she’d been crying. “You need to get over to Louisa’s apartment right now.”

  I felt my heart go cold. “Did something happen to her?”

  “No, but I’m really glad she’s been staying with me. She went home to get a change of clothes this morning and found out somebody broke into her apartment while she was gone and wrecked the place.”

  When was my sister going to realize she had to stop taking reckless chances? “She shouldn’t have gone by herself.”

  “She didn’t. Jim went with her,” Kate said. “We’re not stupid, Ben; we weren’t about to let her go by herself.”

  “I never said you were. You need to call Molly and have her meet me over there. I’m on my way.”

  As I rushed back to the car, she said, “Jim phoned her right after he called me here. She’ll probably be there before you show up.”

  I raced to Louisa’s apartment, wondering what had driven someone to come after the Perkins clan. I wasn’t about to let Molly try to talk me into believing that this break-in was as random as she’d said my car vandalism had been. There was no way she was going to convince me that they both weren’t related somehow to Jerry Sanger’s death. I just wished I knew how. What pot had I stirred so hard that the killer had decided to come after Louisa, too? Monique was up to something, but did I really buy the possibility that she might be a murderer, no matter how foul her attitude could be? Heather Kent seemed too nice to have done it. The fact that I even included Melissa Higgins and John Labott in my list of suspects proved how desperate I’d become. I wanted Steve Erickson to be the one behind all of our turmoil, but I hadn’t pressed Molly hard enough about him. It was time to have her dig into his background, to start checking his history like she’d been checking Louisa’s.

  When I got to my sister’s place, Molly was already there. She was standing by the door when she saw me, and she waited to go in until I joined her.

  “How’d they get in?” I asked. The door looked untouched.

  “Louisa said her hide-a-key’s gone from the flower bed. I didn’t have the heart to lecture her about how crazy storing a key there was.”

  “She wouldn’t listen to you on a good day. She’s constantly losing her front door key.”

  Molly frowned at the open door. “Well, she’s going to get to start over. I’m not going to leave until she promises to have the locks changed.”

  “I’ll see to it myself,” I said.

  Molly said
, “This is getting to be a disturbing trend, taking these calls at your homes and at work.”

  “You don’t have to tell me, how do you think we feel about it? Have you been inside?”

  “Not yet. I saw you coming and thought you might be able to calm your sister down enough so I could look around.”

  “She should be all right. Jim’s with her,” I said. “Let’s go in.”

  A patrol officer met Molly just inside the door and brought her up to speed, but I was more interested in my sister at the moment. Louisa was in one comer, sitting in her sky chair without really looking at anyone or anything in particular. The chair was a bit of whimsy, hanging from the ceiling without any support on the ground, and I knew it was Louisa’s favorite place to be. Jim stood beside her, close enough if she needed him, but still respecting her space. I nodded to my brother without a word, and he added his grim greeting back. I glanced around the apartment before I joined them. Somebody had done a real job on the place. The sofa cushions were shredded, a sight that reminded me of my convertible top. Drawer contents were scattered around the room, and I could see through the doorway that the bedroom was in an equal state of disrepair. It was going to take a cleaning crew forever to get the place back in order.

  I joined Jim and Louisa as Molly scanned the room. “Is there anything missing?” I asked my sister.

  It took Louisa a second to register that I was there. She got up from the chair and wrapped her arms around me, crying softly at first, but then elevating it to a full sob that shook her entire body. Jim just stood there, ever vigilant, watching and waiting for something he could do. He and Louisa had had their share of clashes over the years, but there was no doubt they loved each other. Still, it had always been hard for my brother to show his emotions, or deal with someone else showing theirs. I let Louisa cry herself out, then as she tapered off, I pulled away and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “I know. As far as I can tell, nothing was taken, and the things that were ruined can be replaced. I just feel so violated that someone would come in here and do this to my home.” That brought on another crying jag, which stopped quicker than the first one had. Molly, finding a window of opportunity when Louisa was calm, walked over to us. “Have you had the chance to see if anything valuable has been taken?”