A Mold For Murder (22 page)

“What are you talking about?”

“Barry Hill left this morning. I was wondering if he might have stopped by here on his way out of town.”

“No, he didn’t come by,” she said. “I can’t believe the police would just let him leave like that.”

“They didn’t have anything on him,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened last night? It was pretty obvious you two were arguing about something.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said simply.

I wasn’t about to let her off that easy, but there was something else I wanted to ask her first before I managed to alienate her, too, along with every other suspect I was considering. “Sharon, I’d like to talk to you about the day Connie was killed.”

“Ben, I’ve already been over this with the police. I overslept, and that’s something I never do.” She bit her lower lip, then said, “You know what? I think it might not have been an accident that I missed the signing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The night before Connie was murdered, I was with her in her room. She told me she wanted some rest time by herself, and I understood, since we’d been working hard on her next book. Anyway, when I got back to my room, a few things were out of place, and my bottled water wasn’t exactly where I’d left it. Is it possible that someone drugged my drink so I would be absent the next day at the signing?”

“Why would someone want you out of the picture?” I asked.

“Connie demanded constant attention whenever she appeared in public. If the killer was planning to get rid of her all along at your shop, wouldn’t it make sense to get me out of the way first?”

I would be the first to admit that Connie Brown had been demanding the day of the signing, and I wasn’t even one of her employees. It wasn’t that big a stretch to believe that she’d have had Sharon jumping through hoops to have everything just so. “But who could have done it?”

“I know you’re not going to like to hear this, but Diana was at the bed-and-breakfast that night.”

“Don’t forget, so were Brian Ross and Barry Hill.”

“True. The only suspect it rules out is Betsy Blair. Unless she slipped in without me seeing her, I doubt she could have done that.”

“But neither one of us can say for sure, can we? There’s just too much I don’t know right now,” I said.

Sharon nodded. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Ben. From the way Molly was talking, she’s not any closer to figuring out who killed Connie than you are, and she’s a professional.”

“That’s because we don’t have all the facts,” I said. “If you’d tell her why you were fighting with Barry Hill, maybe it would help.”

She bit her lower lip, then said, “What can it hurt now? You were right. He was threatening me.”

“About what?”

“I saw him when I came to the signing late. He was loitering near the edge of your shop, and he told me if I told anybody else that I’d seen him there, he’d make me regret it.”

“He’s already admitted to the police that he was walking around town,” I said.

“Yes, but did he confess that he was hovering near your shop? That’s not all. When I saw him, I noticed that there was something on his shirt when I ran into him. I’m no expert, but it looked like there were a few flecks of blood on it.”

“That might have been helpful to know when he was still around,” I said angrily.

“He threatened me,” Sharon whined. “What could I do?”

“Hang on one second,” I said. “I need to make a call.”

“What are you going to do? You said it yourself. Barry’s already gone.”

“Molly’s got the state police out looking for him,” I said. “She needs to hear this.”

I couldn’t get a signal on my cell phone in the room. “I need to step outside to make this call.”

“I’ll be right here.”

I called Molly and told her what I’d just heard. She didn’t sound all that surprised as she said, “That’s just one more thing I can ask him, if he ever turns up.”

“I figured he’d be easy to snag,” I said.

“So did I. I’m still not sure how he’s managing it, but so far, nobody’s laid eyes on him.”

I knocked on the door again, and saw that Sharon was packing. “I thought you had one more day,” I said as I saw her stuff a blue dress, two pairs of jeans, a crimson hat, more frilly undergarments than one woman should need on a proposed three-day stay, and a paisley scarf into her bag.

“I do,” she said, “but I’m getting antsy just sitting here in this room. I’ve got to get back to Connie’s place. There’s so much work that needs to be done.”

“I understand,” I said. “But do me one favor. Call me before you leave, okay?”

“I will,” she said as she continued to stuff things into her bag.

“Speaking of bags, you left Connie’s at the bed-and-breakfast. I suppose you’ll be wanting them, won’t you?”

“You can give them to charity for all I care,” she said.

“Fine, I’ll take care of it.”

She hesitated, then said, “On second thought, I’d better take them back with me. Do you have them in your car?”

The bags in question were indeed currently in my trunk, but I wasn’t ready to admit that. If I could keep Sharon in town a little longer, she might just help solve the case. I had a feeling the woman knew more than she even realized. “I’ll have to bring them by later.”

“If you don’t have time, I’ll pick them up on my way out of town,” she said. “Sorry I held back on you before.”

“You were frightened,” I said. “It’s easy enough to understand. Was that it, though?”

She looked confused by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Is there anything, anything at all, that you might not be telling us? Even if it doesn’t seem all that important, you need to tell me everything.”

She looked as though she was ready to cry. “I’ve told you all I know.” As she sniffed into a tissue, she asked, “Was Molly mad?”

“With her, it’s hard to tell lately. Sharon, be careful while you’re here, okay?”

“Who would want to hurt me, Ben? I didn’t see anything, I wasn’t even around when Connie was murdered, and I barely have two dimes to my name.”

“You saw Barry with blood on his shirt,” I said solemnly. “That might be enough.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said.

I drove back to the soap shop, wondering if there could be anything in Connie’s suitcase or garment bag that might give me some idea who had murdered her. Molly had already looked through them, and I probably wouldn’t have any more luck than she had in her search, but I had the time, and it wasn’t like many more leads were raining down on me. I snuck in the back way at the soap shop, barely acknowledged my brothers with a slight wave, then hurried upstairs before someone could ask me if I was going on a trip.

My desk was covered with paperwork, so I used my grandfather’s work space. He hadn’t used it in ages, and there was a thin layer of dust on top of it.

I opened Connie’s luggage and started digging through the two pieces, but that wasn’t getting me anywhere. I finally decided to put them on the floor and pull each item out and look at it as I went. Her lingerie, and she had a lot of it, must have been expensive, based on the diaphanous nature of her collection. I felt really strange going through her delicates. At least there weren’t places anything could be concealed, whether while being worn or not.

I looked in the garment bag, knowing that Connie—in her guise as the contessa—would require more formal wear. There were dresses, soft-brimmed hats, and shoes in the pouches, but nothing that looked like it didn’t belong. I smiled when I realized that she had complete outfits in blue and green, from the shoes to the dresses and gloves to the floppy hats.

As I suspected, there were no blue jeans in either bag, no comfortable clothes at all except a bathrobe that looked well worn. I was about ready to give up on that when I noticed that there was a makeup bag buried within the folds of the robe. I decided that, since I was searching, I’d do a thorough job of it, but if there was something there that was out of place, it was beyond my scope of knowledge to figure it out. I packed everything back up and wondered what I had missed. Something nagged at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, and the harder I tried, the less chance I had of capturing it. It would come to me eventually—I knew that from past experience—and there was nothing I could do to rush it.

In the meantime, I still had a murder to solve.

There was a knock on the door, though it was Paulus’s office, not mine.

“Come in,” I said as I latched the suitcase shut and put it down beside the garment bag.

“Oh, it’s you, Benjamin,” Mom said as she came into the room. “I was wondering if your grandfather came back early from Europe and neglected to tell anyone of his arrival.”

“I needed some space.”

“Have you uncovered anything yet?”

“That’s the problem. I’ve got reasons each of my suspects could have done it. Instead of narrowing the field, I’m expanding it. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have all of Harper’s Landing in my sights before long.”

She patted my shoulder. “You’ll do it, Benjamin, I have faith in you.” She gestured to the luggage. “Are you going somewhere?”

“These are Connie’s things. Sharon left them at Jean’s bed-and-breakfast, and I promised to get them to her before she goes.”

“So you thought the most direct route was through this office?”

I couldn’t exactly deny what I’d been doing. “I admit it. I got nosy and started snooping.”

“It’s not being nosy, you’re being productive. So, what did you find?”

“I learned that Connie hated blue jeans, but loved to coordinate her outfits from top to bottom.”

Mom nodded. “She liked to play the role of diva, didn’t she? You must remember, though, she may have done some bad things in her life, but she was still a soapmaker at heart.”

“Is that supposed to absolve her of everything else, just because she shared our vocation?”

“Benjamin, you know better than that. Keep digging. I believe you will uncover the truth.”

“I’m glad one of us does,” I said. “Walk back to my office with me. I want to show you something.”

“Certainly,” she said, then gestured to the suitcases. “What are you going to do with those?”

“Let’s just leave them here for now,” I said. “I’ll give them to Sharon when she comes by later. She’s leaving town, and Barry Hill is already gone. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever solve this while our suspects are still around.”

“What does Molly think?” Mom asked as she closed the door behind us and started toward my office.

“Honestly? I think she believes Diana did it. I’d be lying if I said she didn’t have enough reason to want to see the woman dead. Connie Brown stole her mother and father from her, and there’s a hatred burning inside Diana that was a little frightening to see.”

“She’s lost a great deal,” Mom said. “She’s allowed to be angry.”

“I guess so,” I said as I opened my office door and led Mom inside. “She also stands to inherit a hundred thousand dollars from Connie’s estate, though I’m not supposed to tell anyone that, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it a secret, too.”

“You know you can trust me to watch what I say, Benjamin.”

I nodded. “I don’t like what this has been doing to Diana and me—investigating this murder is driving a wedge between us that we may not be able to fix once it’s all over.”

“You’ve got to have faith that things will work out for the best,” she said. “Now what is it you’d like me to see in here?” She looked around the room, then added, “I can see you’re not showing off your organizational skills. This place is an absolute wreck, Benjamin.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I have a system. I can find whatever I’m looking for. Now where did I put that envelope I wanted to show you?”

She was about to crow about my statement when she saw my grin. “Benjamin, if I haven’t told you lately, you’re incorrigible.”

“Thanks, it’s important to be good at something.” I retrieved the photographs that Rufus had given me and searched through the pile for the one I wanted.

“Look at this,” I said as I held the picture out to her. It was a shot of the place before anyone else was there, and Where There’s Soap looked warm and inviting, in stark contrast to the shot the newspaper had run. “I thought we might be able to use this on our next brochure.”

She studied the print, then asked, “Did you take this yourself?”

“No, Diana’s clerk, Rufus, did. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I like it,” she said. “Let’s buy it from him.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to just give it to us,” I said.

“Nonsense. It would cost us good money if a professional photographer took this. If we’re going to use it for our business, we need to show payment and that the rights have been assigned to us. You should go make him an offer for the negative and all publishing rights. Make him sign a release, too.”

“How much should I give him? Would a hundred dollars be too much?”

Mom’s eyes grew large. “Not unless you’re going to match what the shop is willing to pay. Give him fifty. He’ll be glad to get it, I wager.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it later.”

“Ben, you should do it now.”

I didn’t really want to go to the bookstore, but then I realized that there was no danger of running into Diana there. She was in Hunter’s Hollow with her aunt and uncle, so now would be a perfect time to do it. “Let me print out a release and I’ll be on my way. Would you mind cutting me a check while I do this?”

“I’d be happy to.”

She left to draw a check on the company account, and I printed a copy of the standard release form we used. It was easy enough to fill in the blanks with Rufus’s name and the amount, and by the time I had it ready, Mom was back with a check.

“What about these photographs?” Mom asked. “Aren’t you going to take them back to him?”