A Mold For Murder Read online

“How did that happen?” It truly was a fascinating business she worked in, and sometimes I thought she had the better career between the two of us.

  “He came here for a signing once and I asked him the exact same thing. It turns out that a different publisher liked his style, but they thought he’d sell more books with a female name because of the traditional mysteries he writes.”

  “And were they right?”

  Diana grinned. “I don’t know yet, it’s too early to say, but I like everything he writes.”

  Cindy, my youngest sibling, poked her head through the door. “There you are. Ben, Mom’s looking for you. Should I tell her you’re canoodling in back with your girlfriend?”

  I was starting to answer when Diana beat me to it. “In all honesty, I wanted to canoodle, but Ben said he was too busy so I’m settling for a little gossip instead.”

  Cindy smiled. “Oh, goody. I adore dirt. Tell me.”

  I brushed past her and said, “I’d love to, but you said it yourself. Mom needs me.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me—something that made her look barely as old as the eighteen years she had—and Diana trailed along behind.

  “Spoilsport,” Cindy said.

  “Every chance I get,” I replied.

  Once we were out on the sales floor, Diana said, “I’d better make sure the books are in their proper sequence of publication. Sharon was pretty emphatic about it when she came by the bookstore yesterday afternoon.”

  “So she read the riot act to you, too?”

  Diana smiled. “She’s nice enough, but I get the distinct impression she isn’t her boss’s biggest fan.”

  “I can’t imagine that,” I said with a smile.

  “See you later,” Diana said as she moved to the table stacked high with the contessa’s books.

  I found Mom by the front register, and from the pained expression on her face, I had a feeling that I was going to have more trouble on my hands than a temperamental writer. My mother was a slim woman with frosted hair, and it always delighted her when people expressed shock at the fact that she had seven children, the youngest already eighteen.

  “I’ve seen that look before,” I said as I neared my mother. “What’s wrong?”

  “Benjamin, I know I should be happy we’re filling up, but there are too many people here. Perhaps we should have gotten more help for these events.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control,” I said. “With the guys helping out up front, we should be fine.” I patted her shoulder as I added, “Enjoy it, Mom. It’s a day to celebrate.”

  The frown left her mouth. “Yes, of course you’re right.” She gestured all around us, then added, “It was a wonderful idea, Benjamin.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I watched a little old man try to shove a selection of soaps under his coat. “I’ll talk to you in a second. I’ve got to take care of something.”

  I left her and caught up with the thief just as he stepped outside our front door.

  “Can I help you?” I asked as I touched his shoulder.

  He acted as if I’d shot him. The man spun around out of my grasp, ejecting stolen soaps from under his coat like they were on fire. My grip loosened for a second, I was so startled by the display, and he managed to slip out of my grasp. The man must have been a sprinter in younger days, because he bolted off the porch so fast that he was gone before I could catch my breath. I collected the errant soaps and walked back inside. I’d been hoping no one had caught the exchange, but of course my mother had seen it all. She motioned to me, and I walked back to her, prepared for a scolding.

  Instead, she hugged me. “Nicely done, Ben. I believe you are in control after all.”

  I just shook my head, then I started trolling through the crowd more earnestly, trying to spot anyone else who wanted to help themselves to our handcrafted products. It suddenly occurred to me that my office would be the perfect place to spot miscreants, but unfortunately it was occupied at the moment. That still left my grandfather’s and mother’s offices open, though. But I needed someone on the ground to nab any culprits I found, and unfortunately, my entire family was busy at the moment helping legitimate customers. I did the best I could acting as the entire store security team, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough on a day like we were having. Who knows how much inventory walked out without the benefit of a receipt? That was just one more loss attributable to my idea for the festival. At least we were selling lots of things legitimately. I decided my presence walking among the customers might have a more detrimental effect on the shoplifters than spying down on them from above, so I started walking through the store, keeping my eye out for anyone trying to rip us off.

  A little while later, I heard an incessant tapping that I couldn’t place. It sounded as if a lovesick woodpecker was declaring its passion on one of our windowpanes, and it took me longer than it should have to realize that it was the contessa trying to get my attention from above.

  I trotted up the stairs and found her standing behind my desk with a scowl plastered on her face. “It took you long enough to get here.”

  “Things are a little busy on the floor right now,” I said.

  “Where is Sharon?” she snarled at me as I started to ask her what was so urgent.

  “I don’t have a clue,” I said. “She’s your employee, not mine.” I was a little more abrupt than I probably should have been, but the woman was already getting on my nerves. If I were Sharon, I’d hide if I could, too.

  “If she doesn’t get here in time to introduce me, you’ll have to do it yourself.” She looked like she was as excited by the prospect as I was, which was not at all.

  “I’ll get one of my siblings to do it,” I said. I wanted to keep an eye on things in the store while the contessa gave her presentation. I was getting paranoid about our visitors.

  “You’ll do it yourself, Ben,” she said as she shoved a piece of paper at me. I glanced at her handwritten scrawl and was nearly knocked over by her use of adjectives describing just how wonderful she was. There was no way on earth I could say what she’d written with a straight face.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have someone else do this?” I asked.

  “I’m positive.” She glanced at the clock on my wall. “If Sharon is still not here in two minutes, you’ll have to do the honors yourself. I pride myself on punctuality, and I won’t let that child thwart me. Two minutes, do you understand me?”

  “I get it,” I said.

  I started to leave in search of Sharon when the contessa asked, “And just where do you think you’re going?”

  “I thought I’d look for your assistant,” I said.

  “There’s no time for that. You will wait here with me, and we will walk down the stairs together.”

  “Fine,” I said. I watched as the second hand of my clock plodded slowly around twice, hoping for a reprieve, but none came. It appeared that I’d be doing the introductions myself after all.

  She offered me her gloved hand, then said, “Shall we?”

  “Certainly,” I said. Maybe if I fell going down the stairs and broke my leg I wouldn’t have to give the introduction. Try as I might, I managed to get down the steps without breaking anything, much to my dismay. She touched my arm at the door in back and said, “When you say my name, project it loudly enough for me to hear you, and I’ll enter.”

  “I’ll do my best.” As I walked to the microphone, I was frantically searching the gathered crowd, hoping that Sharon was waiting for us out on the sales floor. She was nowhere to be seen. All of the chairs in front of the worktable and microphone were full, and there was standing room only behind them. We’d had to move out some of our shelves in order to accommodate our visitors, and I’d worried about the lost revenue, but at least we were packing people in, and if the number of shopping bags they carried was any indication, the day might just be profitable after all.

  I tapped the microphone with my finger and a squeal cut across a dozen conversatio
ns like a fan through smoke. “Excuse me,” I said a little louder than necessary, causing some of the people sitting near the speakers to wince. “We’re ready to get started.”

  I took a deep breath, then adjusted my voice to the correct volume. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege and honor to introduce a soapmaking master to you this afternoon.” Did she honestly expect me to read it all? There was more of it than I could stomach, so I scanned down a few paragraphs, then flipped the paper over. If the contessa had a problem with my truncated introduction, she was just going to have to deal with it.

  Ad-libbing, I said, “Please join me in welcoming our honored guest, the Contessa New Berne.”

  The applause was heartfelt, but there was no sign of the woman herself. I’d been expecting a grand entrance, but it looked like she wasn’t interested in coming out with less than her usual introduction.

  As the applause started to die, I tried one more time. “The Contessa New Berne.”

  It came back up again, but slowed rather quickly, and we were still without our speaker.

  I leaned into the microphone and said, “Sorry about that. I’ll be right back.”

  There were a few giggles from the crowd, but many more grumbles. She’d made me look like a fool, and I was prepared to give her a withering remark as I walked to the back room to look for her.

  That’s when I nearly tripped over the body.

  TWO

  I yelled for help as I leaned over the contessa’s still form and searched for a pulse, but I couldn’t find one. She was sprawled out on the floor, her carefully pressed clothes askew. I was appalled when I saw there was a bar of soap jammed in her mouth, the custom blend we’d made just for the Soap Celebration. Had she actually choked to death on it? I wanted to pull it out of her mouth, but I had a deadening suspicion that our guest was past helping, and I knew better than to interfere with a crime scene. Molly had lectured me over and over again how everything was important, no matter how insignificant it appeared. Had she tried to fight her killer, or had the murderer struck too quickly for self-defense?

  I don’t know how anyone heard my plea for help in the boutique, but my brother Jim came crashing through the door three seconds after I shouted out. He’s a big guy—husky and solid—and not much gets to him, but when he saw the contessa’s body, I saw his knees start to buckle.

  “What happened?” Jim stammered as he stared down at her, leaning against the door frame.

  “See if there’s a doctor out there, then call 911.”

  He just stood there, staring at her, until I shouted, “Move!”

  That got his attention. Jim hurried back to the boutique, and I tried to figure out if there was anything I could do but stand there and guard the body. It was the least I owed her, since the only reason the Contessa New Berne had even been in Harper’s Landing was because of me.

  Jim came back thirty seconds later with a middle-aged woman right behind him. She brushed past us both when she spotted the contessa lying on the floor. As she checked for any sign of life, I stood back with Jim.

  He said softly, “Bob and Jeff are right outside the door. So far we’ve managed to keep everyone else from knowing what happened. I wouldn’t have heard your shout myself if I hadn’t been standing near the door.”

  “Good,” I said, and my gaze automatically went to the back door of our business. For the first time since I’d discovered the body, I saw that it was unlatched and partially open.

  When I pointed it out to Jim, he said, “You know we keep that door closed and locked all the time. I don’t get it.”

  “Think about it. Either the killer came in that way, or that’s how he left,” I said. “Molly will have to figure out what happened.”

  I was sure that door had been closed and locked when I’d escorted the contessa down the stairs. Or was I? Had I really paid that much attention to something I saw every day? As I tried to replay the descent in my mind, I finally decided I couldn’t be sure either way.

  Jim coughed once, then said, “Listen, I’m sorry I froze up on you like that.”

  “It’s not a problem,” I said.

  “It just shocked me, seeing her like that.”

  I put a hand on my brother’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You did fine.”

  He shrugged. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone else.”

  “Mention what?” I asked him, offering a slight smile.

  “Thanks.” Jim had a reputation, both among the family and the community, that he was tough—blunt and abrupt—and if the conception was that important to him, I didn’t mind. Me, I didn’t care if the whole world knew that stumbling across a dead body had a way of shaking me to my core.

  “I can’t help her,” the doctor finally said. “I’m afraid what you need is a coroner.”

  “This had to have just happened,” I said. “I was with her five minutes ago.”

  She shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say she died pretty quickly.”

  “Did the soap choke her to death?” Jim asked.

  Cleaning her hands with a shop towel, the doctor stood as she said, “No, I found a head wound in back that appeared to go pretty deep. My guess is that someone hit her from behind with the claw end of a hammer or something like that.”

  I could see where the blood was starting to star out its stain near the contessa’s head. “So why was the soap shoved halfway down her throat?” I asked.

  “If I were to guess, I’d have to say there’s some significance to it that we don’t know yet. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you right now.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I offered her my hand without thinking. “I’m Ben Perkins, and this is my brother Jim.”

  She started to shake my hand, but then must have realized that despite her cleaning attempts, she was in no position to return the courtesy. “I’m Karen Weiss. I’m a dermatologist, and I’ve got to tell you, I haven’t seen a blunt force trauma since my turn at an emergency room in Virginia.”

  “I’m just glad you were here,” I said.

  “I didn’t do anything, honestly. I’m from Hickory, and I drove up when I heard you were hosting the contessa. I’m a huge fan.” She glanced down at the body, then corrected herself. “I was, I should say. I’m really sorry I couldn’t help her.”

  Molly rushed in, dressed in her police uniform, with my brother Jeff on her heels. They’d been dating for a few months, and they were getting pretty serious. I’d had a tough time with their relationship at first—since I’d dated Molly through high school and some time beyond it—but I was finally at the point where I was happy for them both. It was hard enough finding love in this world, and if they had discovered it in each other, I was determined to be happy for them.

  “Has anybody touched anything?” Molly asked. Now why was she looking so hard at me when she asked that?

  Doctor Weiss answered for me. “I didn’t disturb anything, but I did check the victim for a pulse. She was dead when I got here.”

  “From the soap?” Molly asked.

  “No, it was a blunt force trauma. I can show you if you’d like.”

  “That would be great,” Molly said. “But give me one second first.” She whispered something into her radio, then she moved toward the body, with Jeff close behind.

  Molly turned to him and said, “You need to help Bob guard the door.”

  I’d expected him to put up some kind of resistance, but he just nodded and left us. It was amazing to see the changes that love had wrought in both of them. There had been a softness in her voice when she’d ordered him to return to his station, and that had startled me nearly as much as finding the contessa’s body.

  After thirty seconds of the doctor’s explanation, Molly stood up. “Thanks, Doc. Could you stick around for a while?”

  “I’d be happy to, though I’m not sure what good I can do.”

  “I just need to get a statement from you.”

  Molly turned t
o me then and said, “Ben, you might as well know that I’ve sealed off the front exit so I can interview everyone here. We’re keeping it as low-key as we can right now, but when your customers find out what happened here, they’re not going to be happy about being forced to stay.”

  So that’s what she had whispered into her radio earlier. “Molly, nobody in there had anything to do with this. The back door was open when I found her. I’ve got a hundred customers in there right now.”

  She looked at me steadily. “I hate to interfere with your business, but I’ve got a murder to solve. No one leaves until one of my officers talks to them, understood?”

  “Yeah, I know you’re right. But Mom’s going to want to talk to you about it.” I knew Molly wasn’t anymore interested in getting chewed out by my mother than any of the rest of us, but there wasn’t much chance she was going to avoid a scolding, and she knew it. Molly frowned at me, then started talking to her office on her radio, dismissing me and the doctor from her thoughts completely.

  Doctor Weiss frowned, so I asked her, “Is there something wrong?”

  “I was hoping to get some shopping done,” she admitted.

  “Molly,” I said as she put her radio back on its belt clip. “Would it be all right if the doctor browses in the shop while she waits for you? She’ll be right there if you need her.”

  “What? That’s fine. Just so she doesn’t wander off.”

  The doctor squeezed my arm. “Thank you so much.”

  “Tell you what. Come find me when you’re ready to check out. I’ll give you a discount.” My mother wouldn’t like it, I knew that without even asking, but the way I looked at it, the doctor had done us a service, and I hated for the books not to balance.

  “I appreciate the thought, but my hobbies are my only vices, so I can afford to indulge them.”

  “Why don’t you go with her?” Molly asked. “And take your brothers with you.”

  “I thought you needed them for sentry duty.”

  “Thanks, but some of my people will be here any minute. Tell Jeff for me, would you?”

  I nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Is there any way we could get the ambulance driver to come in through the back door?”