A Mold For Murder (21 page)

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think I was being particularly stealthy. Is Diana inside?”

“No, she’s at her aunt and uncle’s place. You know where that is, don’t you? I’m the only one working here, until she tells me different.”

I gestured to the bookstore. “If you’re out here, then who’s inside waiting on customers?”

He shook his head. “We haven’t had anybody come by all morning. What sense does it make for me to sit inside when there’s nobody there?”

At that moment, the bookstore’s front door opened and a timid little man stepped out. “Excuse me, but do either one of you work here? I’ve been waiting at the counter for ten minutes to buy this book, but no one seems to be inside.”

“I’ll be right with you,” Rufus said, and the man ducked back in. Rufus looked defiantly at me and said, “So, one guy slipped past me. It’s no big deal.”

As he walked in to ring up the sale, Rufus asked, “Should I call Diana and tell her you came by looking for her?”

“No, I’ll talk to her later myself. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said as he went back into the bookstore. His vigilance and dedication to his work was actually slipping, if that were possible, but that was Diana’s problem. Or at least one of them.

I decided to drive out to Hunter’s Hollow and talk to Diana and her aunt and uncle at the same time. I’d wanted to ask them about their own alibis for the time of the murder. After all, they’d lost two people they’d loved, too.

Diana looked shocked when she answered the door at the Long’s house. She was barefoot, and wore blue jeans and an old football jersey sporting a bulldog and a big
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on it.

“Ben, what are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” I said.

“Look at the way I’m dressed,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I didn’t know you played football,” I said with a smile, trying to break some of the tension that still hung between us.

“It belonged to an old boyfriend from high school. I caught him flirting with another girl, so I kept his jersey after I broke up with him. Listen, I’m not happy about the way we left things the last time.”

“I’m not either,” I said.

The look of relief on her face was only temporary as I added, “But there are some questions that need to be asked, and until they are, there’s going to be a big wall between us. You don’t want that, do you?”

“You know I don’t,” she said, “but I’m not sure why you’re digging into this so hard. Why don’t you let Molly handle it like you said you were going to do?”

“Because the murder occurred in my shop,” I said, “and if I hadn’t invited Connie Brown to Harper’s Landing, it never would have happened here at all.”

“Ben, you can’t blame yourself,” she said softly.

“I’m not, but I’d be a fool to think that I’m not at least somewhat responsible. Diana, I need the truth.”

“I’ve never told you anything else,” she said.

“I consider omission as big a sin as commission.”

“You know what? Maybe it would be better if you left after all.” The affection in her voice that I’d felt in the past was gone now.

“I’m not going anywhere without answers,” I said.

“What do you expect me to say, that I killed her? I didn’t, but if I’d known who she was before that signing, I might have.” Diana’s eyes flared as she added, “She killed my parents. She deserved to die.”

I couldn’t believe this was the same sweet woman I’d been dating. At that moment, I fully believed that Diana was capable of killing Connie Brown, something I hadn’t been able to visualize at all since the murder.

Suddenly behind her, Mr. and Mrs. Long showed up. Diana’s uncle said, “Ben? Is that you? Invite him in, Diana. What’s wrong with you, girl, have you lost all your manners?”

“Ben can’t stay,” she said. “He was just leaving.”

“Actually, I have a minute or two,” I said, trying to ignore the daggers in Diana’s glare.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Long said. “Come in and have some tea.”

I stepped past Diana and walked into the living room. It was a shrine to Diana, with photographs from every year of her life, and events with the most trivial significance were treated with reverence and awe. The Longs hadn’t been able to have any children of their own, and when they took Diana in, every ounce of their parental desires apparently flooded out onto her. It was a wonder she could survive it without becoming the world’s biggest narcissist.

“I’ll be right back with a tray,” Mrs. Long said.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any tea. What I really came here for are answers.”

Diana said, “Ben, I told you, I’m done discussing this with you.”

“You’re not the only one who could be involved here,” I said.

It took Diana’s uncle a second to get it. “You’re talking about that woman’s murder, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I said.

Mrs. Long said, “Ben, you can’t think Diana had anything to do with that, can you?”

Her husband patted her hand. “He’s talking about us, too, dear.”

“That’s it,” Diana said abruptly. “Ben, you’re leaving. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

I stood, but as I started to leave, Mr. Long said sadly, “Not that we need to tell you anything, but my wife and I were in Charlotte the entire afternoon on the day of the murder.”

“Can you prove that?” I asked.

“I can and I have,” he said. “I’ve already told the police from Harper’s Landing, but I’m not going to satisfy your whim without more reason than you’ve given me. Diana was right. It’s time you left.”

Mrs. Long scowled at me as I stepped past her toward the door. It appeared that I was three for three in offending the Longs. As I walked out to the Miata, I saw Diana staring at me through the front window. She was crying—I could see it from there—but I didn’t have any comfort to offer her.

 

 

I
was more upset by the confrontation with Diana and her family than I cared to acknowledge. While it was true that I might not have had the right to ask the hard questions, someone had to, and I’d been under the impression that no one had. After our conversation though, it was pretty obvious that Molly had already interviewed Mr. and Mrs. Long. I just wished she would have shared that particular tidbit with me.

On the other hand, I had to admit that I was starting to see how Molly could think that Diana could have done it. One look in her eyes was all I’d needed to confirm that I couldn’t rule her out as a suspect, no matter what my relationship was with her. But while there were other possibilities, I was determined to focus on them.

As I drove toward home, I considered everyone else I believed was motivated enough to commit murder. Sharon Goldsmith, Betsy Blair, and Barry Hill were all on my list; Brian Ross was on it, too.

If Diana had murdered Connie Brown, did I really want to be the one who proved her guilt? I would do it if I had to, but not until I’d exhausted every other suspect on my list.

Barry Hill’s temper had bothered me from the first time I’d heard him snarl. He had been in the middle of a confrontation with Sharon when Molly and I had shown up. But what had they been fighting about? It had appeared to me that Barry was threatening Sharon in some way, but she hadn’t said a word about what it might have been. Molly hadn’t been able to get anything out of him, but maybe I’d have more luck this morning. He’d had some time to think about it, so maybe I could catch his guard down.

I found the same maid who’d tipped me off to his presence cleaning Barry Hill’s room as I started to knock on his door.

“Good morning,” I said. “Do you have any idea where Mr. Hill is?”

“He’s gone,” she said. “I’m sorry you missed him.”

“Do you have any idea when he’s coming back?” I needed to speak with him, and this particular maid had proved to be resourceful in the past.

“No, you don’t understand. When I say he’s gone, I mean he’s gone. He checked out early this morning.”

“Blast it all,” I said. “I need to find out where he went.”

“Max won’t tell you,” she said as I raced for the door. “So it won’t even do you any good to try. He acts like he owns this place, and all of our guests are his family.”

“I get it,” I said, reaching into my wallet for a twenty.

“I don’t want your money,” she said. “Not that I wouldn’t take it if I had some information for you, but I honestly don’t know where the man went.”

“Sorry,” I said, as I put my wallet back in my pocket.

She accepted the apology with a smile. “You don’t have to apologize to me, but you should know that I won’t cheat you by lying to you. That’s where I draw the line.”

“Thanks,” I said as I left. “I appreciate that.”

We all have our own levels of how far we’ll go, where we’ll draw the line and say, “there and no more.” I could accept the maid’s rationalization, mostly because I knew that I made them myself from time to time.

I called Molly, though I wasn’t happy about the prospect of talking to her.

When she finally picked up, I said, “Barry Hill checked out early this morning, and no one knows where he’s gone.”

“Ben, do you make soap at all anymore, or are you too busy playing detective?”

“I try to fit them both in whenever I can,” I said, a little harsher than I should have. “I just thought you’d like to know that one of your suspects was taking off.” Then, without giving her the chance to say another word, I hung up on her. I’d taken enough guff that morning, and I wasn’t in the mood to take any more.

My phone rang twenty seconds later, and I considered not answering it, but then I realized that would be a childish reaction, and I decided to pick up anyway.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I was out of line just then.”

I couldn’t believe it. Molly actually sounded contrite. “I’m the one who should apologize. I had a fight with Diana and her family earlier, and it shook me up more than I’d like to admit.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to, but before I left their house, I ended up accusing all three of them of murder,” I said, then hastily corrected, “No, it wasn’t as bad as that. All I really did was ask them for their alibis, but you’d think I’d done a lot worse by the way they reacted.”

“I already talked to the Longs,” Molly said. “They were in Charlotte for a doctor’s appointment with a specialist. It checked out.”

“Information I could have used before I said anything,” I admitted. “Sorry, I know you aren’t under any obligation to keep me in the loop. Is there any chance you’ve cleared Diana, too?”

“No such luck,” she said, “and if you tell anybody I said one word to you about this case, I’ll deny it and call you a liar.”

“I completely understand,” I said. “And in the spirit of you not telling me anything, were you able to find out what Sharon was doing when Connie Brown was getting murdered at my shop?”

“She claims she overslept, but when Jean tried to get into her room to clean, she said the door was locked. No one saw her as she left the bed-and-breakfast to head over to the soap shop, at least we haven’t found any witnesses yet. It’s the best we’ve been able to come up with.”

“What about Barry? Does he have an alibi you can check out?” I wasn’t at all certain how long Molly would be in the mood to share, but I was going to wring every ounce of information out of her I could in the meantime.

“He claims he was walking aimlessly around town, but again, I haven’t found anybody yet who is willing to swear that they saw him.” She hesitated, then added, “I looked into Brian Ross’s log for that day, because I knew you’d want to know. He was actually writing a parking ticket across town at the time of the murder, but there’s something odd about it.”

“What’s that?”

“Somebody wrote over the time entry on the ticket. He claims he made a mistake and corrected it, but I’m going to look at the ticket and see if the numbers match, or if Ross changed it after the fact.”

“Thanks for that,” I said. “I appreciate you keeping your options open.”

“Until I can prove who killed your contessa, everyone’s a suspect.”

“In the first place,” I said, “she’s not my contessa.”

“I don’t want to hear the other places, thank you very much. Listen, I’ve got to go, Ben. I’ll talk to you later. And don’t worry about Barry Hill. He can’t go far. We’ll find him soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Have faith in me and my fellow officers,” Molly said, and then she hung up.

I hoped she was right. By fleeing town, Barry Hill was admitting to the world that he was either guilty of murder, or afraid that he might be the next victim.

But which was it?

TWELVE

I
decided I wasn’t ready to go back to Where There’s Soap just yet, so I drove out to the Mountain Lake Motel to see what Sharon thought about Barry Hill running away. Maybe I could get something else out of her.

I had to knock on the door three times before I got any response, and I was beginning to believe that there had been a mass exodus of suspects from Harper’s Landing.

When she finally opened the door, I was more than a little relieved that she was still in town.

When she saw me, Sharon said, “Hi, Ben. Come on in. Sorry it took me so long to answer the door, but I was just on the phone. It turns out my stipend isn’t going to last as long as I’d hoped it would. Connie’s business manager told me I could stay here one more night, and then I was going to have to finance it myself if I wanted to hang around Harper’s Landing. There’s some good news, though. He wants me back at Connie’s so I can help him sort through her papers, and he’s going to pay me while I’m doing it. Connie was a terrible record keeper, and it’s going to take forever to sort the mess out, so I don’t have to worry about running out and finding a job anytime soon. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”

“You won’t be the first one to leave,” I said.