A Pour Way to Dye (Book 2 in the Soapmaking Mysteries) (19 page)

It took me ten minutes to drive to Paulus’s
house, but it was another fifteen before I got up the nerve to
approach the front door. He lived in a large, rambling old place
that needed a new roof and a good coat of paint. I’d once asked him
why he hadn’t fixed it up, and he’d told me that the house was a
lot like he was: seasoned and experienced without the need or
desire to be something it wasn’t His response had been a little too
esoteric for my tastes, but then that was Paulus through and
through.

I knew there were half a dozen keys hidden
around the property, since Paulus was notorious for misplacing
them. He’d stash one somewhere, forget where it was, then repeal
the process until his place was an invitation to a burglar; though
from the looks of it on the outside, any self-respecting thief
would pass it by. Maybe there was a good reason for its lack of
curb appeal after all.

I checked under the mat, in the mailbox, and
on the top door frame, but there weren’t any keys there. Maybe
Paulus had changed his habits, but I doubted it. Most likely it
just meant that I’d have to search a little harder.

I finally found a key hiding under a
whimsical elf that sat on the railing of his porch. Making a silent
request for forgiveness from my grandfather, I used the key and
slipped inside. The place was neat, and in surprising contrast to
the exterior had been decorated tastefully with antiques. The
hardwood floors were polished to a blinding shine, and the scent of
lemons was everywhere, no doubt from the furniture polish my
grandfather loved to use. I walked through the house, searching for
something that might help me find him—or at the very least figure
out what he’d been up to—when I spotted a note on the kitchen
table.

To my surprise, it was addressed to me.

What was that about? I opened it and read,
“Hi, Ben. You just couldn’t resist snooping around my place, could
you? That’s a bad habit you’ve got there, sticking your nose in
other people’s business. I’m sorry about lunch—I should have
come—but I got skittish at the last minute, came back here to pack
a bag, and the second I’m finished with this, I’m getting out of
town.

Take my advice and drop it, Ben. Molly’s on
top of things, and she’s good at her job. So let her do it. She
knows how to get in touch with me when this mess is settled. In the
meantime, I’m taking a trip I’ve been dreaming about for quite a
while now.

Concentrate on what’s real and what’s not.
That’s the most important advice I can give you. Paulus.”

What in blazes did that mean? Had my
grandfather finally slipped off the edge of the dock of sanity? And
what about that ringing endorsement of Molly? He could tell her
where he was, but none of us? Then I remembered wheedling his last
known whereabouts out of Kate, and realized he probably was
right.

I couldn’t just leave it at that, though, not
with my neck on the block. It was time to talk to Molly.

I locked the house back up, stepped out onto
the porch, and dialed her cell phone number.

I was beginning to wonder if she was even
going to pick up when she said breathlessly, “Wilkes.”

“
Hey, Molly, it’s Ben. We
need to talk.”

I could hear a sigh, then she said, “This
isn’t a good time.”

“
I’ll bet,” I said, “but I
need to speak with you, anyway. Where’s Paulus?”

“
I’m not getting into this
with you right now,” she said.

“
Don’t hang up. If you do,
I’ll just keep calling, and I know you can’t turn your phone off.
Where is he?”

“
Out of Harper’s Landing,”
she said. “That’s all you need to know. I’ve got to go.”

“
Why, are you on a big
date?”

“
As a matter of fact, I
am.”

“
Sorry. I didn’t know. Tell
Jeff I didn’t mean to interrupt your afternoon off.”

There was a short bark of laughter. “I don’t
think so. Good-bye.”

She didn’t even wait for me to say good-bye
myself. What was there left for me to do at the moment? It was
close enough to closing time that I didn’t see any need to go back
to the soap shop, especially when I didn’t have any answers to the
questions I would surely get from my family. I wasn’t in any hurry
to go to my apartment, either.

Most times I enjoyed living by myself, but
sometimes it was lonelier than I’d ever admit to anybody else.

I drove downtown, got a sandwich and drink to
go from a sub shop, and headed to Bartholomew Grant’s secret
garden. It would be the perfect place to have a picnic for one.

When I got there, though, the lights were
already on. Bartholomew, or another member of his inner circle, was
visiting the garden. Kept behind a gate and tall hedge, the rest of
the world was mostly ignorant to the spectacular flower garden he
kept improving in honor of his late wife Leah. Since that option
was gone, and I didn’t feel like driving out to the dam, I decided
to eat in the Miata right there. After I finished my meal, it was
still too early to go home, and I found myself driving to Diana’s
bookstore. I’d missed seeing her today in class, and she was
exactly the kind of company I was in the mood for tonight. Maybe
she could even recommend a new author to me. I was always on the
lookout for fresh talent

The store was crowded when I walked in, and
Rufus, her ponytailed clerk, was busy helping customers. He nodded
to me, and when there was a gap in his line, I asked, “Is Diana
around?”

“
No, sorry, she’s off
tonight. Again.” Another customer approached, and Rufus started
ringing up his purchase. I browsed for a few minutes, then left
without buying anything. As I drove back to my apartment, I
couldn’t help wondering where Diana was. Out on another date,
perhaps? It was none of my business—we’d only gone out once—but I
still felt a twinge of jealousy.

By the time I got to my place, I was in a
dark mood. Maybe a movie and some microwave popcorn would help. I
sat through the opening of The Godfather, flipped it off and
grabbed a book, but I quickly put it back down. I just wasn’t in
the mood to be entertained.

As I undressed and got ready for bed, I felt
a slip of paper in my pocket. I’d forgotten all about the note
Cindy had given me.

I took it out and saw that it was from Diana.
This was my day to get correspondence.

Ben, sorry I missed you today. If you’d like
to call me tonight, go ahead, no matter how late it is. I’m
visiting my aunt and uncle in Hunter’s Hollow tonight, but I’ll be
back around ten.

Diana.

PS I had a wonderful time last night. Thanks
again for asking.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was a
little before ten. Should I call her, or wait until my mood wasn’t
quite so dark? Finally, I decided talking to her might just be the
exact thing I needed.

She answered before it even had the chance to
ring twice. “Hello?”

“
I just got your note,” I
said. “How were your aunt and uncle?”

“
Ben,” she said happily, the
delight obvious in her voice. “I was hoping you’d call. They’re
fine. My uncle is building a boat in the basement, and he’s just
about finished. There’s just one problem.” “What’s that?” I
asked.

“
It’s too big to get through
the door.” Her laughter was delightful, and I found my mood
starting to lighten. “Is he devastated?”

“
You’d think so, wouldn’t
you? He’s looking at it as a challenge, and knowing my uncle, he’ll
figure something out. When I left, he was trying to talk my aunt
into letting him put hinges on the house so he could just lift it
up. They are absolutely hilarious. So how was your day? I missed
you in class.”

“
Sorry about that. I had to
take care of some family business.”

She hesitated, then said, “Listen, this may
be out of line, and if it is just tell me, but if you need some
help looking into Earnest Joy’s murder, I’m right here. I’ve been
reading mysteries my entire life, and I’ve gotten pretty good at
figuring them out.”

“
I wish it were that
simple,” I said. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t even know
where to begin.”

“
That’s fine, but I’m here
if you need me. Ben, it’s so nice to hear your voice.”

“
It’s good hearing yours,
too.” And it was. My mood had lifted considerably just listening to
her tales of her family. We talked for nearly an hour before saying
our good-byes, and I didn’t have a single problem getting to sleep
after our conversation.

It was good having Diana in my life, and I’d
thought of Kelly only a few times that day. Maybe I was going to be
able to move on, after all.

Chapter 9

I was at The Hound Dog the next morning eating my
breakfast before work when I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ralph
Haller come in. The last time I’d spoken to the man, he’d accused
me of murder and had nearly come after me, even with Molly standing
beside me.

I ducked down in my booth and listened to his
footstep approach. Had he seen me? I braced myself for another
confrontation when I heard him say nearly in my ear, “How are you
doing, you wretched piece of garbage?”

I was starting to stand up when another voice
said “Look who’s talking? At least I’ve never been in prison.”

“
Not that you didn’t deserve
it a time or two,” Ralph said as he slid into the booth directly
behind me.

The other man said, “Deserving’s one thing,
but doing the time’s another.”

“
That’s ancient history,
McGregor. What looks good today?”

“
Ruby’s sporting a new
hairdo,” his companion said.

“
I’m talking about food, you
tire iron. Tell you what. Order me a stack of pancakes and some
eggs. I’ve got to hit the can.”

“
You’re a charmer, Ralph,
you know that, don’t you?”

I waited until I heard Ralph’s footsteps
retreat to the restroom, then I took off, leaving half my meal
still on my plate. I threw a ten to Ruby and left before Ralph came
back out and saw me.

Once I was back at Where There’s Soap, I
started wondering about the conversation the two men had shared.
Could it be true that Ralph had spent time in prison? I wondered
what he’d been convicted of. Maybe murder, or aggravated assault.
Could he have killed Earnest Joy, then planted the soap in his left
hand to divert Molly’s attention toward the Perkins clan? I had to
know. I thought about calling Molly, but her scolding the afternoon
before still stung, and I wasn’t in the mood to get another lecture
at the moment. If I found something a little more concrete I’d go
to her, but not until then.

It was a miracle that nobody bothered me in
my office all morning. I waited around until the library was open,
then left as quickly as I could. It was time to dig into the past.
If Paulus had been around I would have asked him, but as it was, I
was going to have to do my research the old-fashioned way.

“
I need some help,” I asked
the librarian behind the reference desk. She was a petite
red-haired woman with a quick smile and a ready laugh. Her nametag
read, Corki.

“
That’s why I’m here,” she
said. “What are you looking for?”

“
I’ve got a man’s name and a
rumor that he went to prison a long time ago, and I need to know
what happened to send him there. His name’s Ralph Haller. The only
problem is, I’m not sure when he was convicted, except that it was
sometime thirty or forty years ago.”

Corki smiled quickly. “I love a challenge
first thing in the morning. Let’s see, I’ll start you on the
microfilm of our newspaper archives while I make a few phone
calls.”

“
I don’t want to be a
bother,” I said.

“
Please,” she said. “This is
my idea of fun.”

“
Then you need to get out
more,” I said.

“
Is that an invitation or a
general observation? I’m a married woman, you know.”

I stammered, “Well, it’s not that I... I mean
...”

She watched me squirm a moment longer, then
said, “I’m just teasing. Before you start digging, let’s try
something else first.”

Corki leaned into her terminal and started
typing at a fierce pace. Every now and then she’d nod, pause, then
tap a few more keys. “Okay, here’s what I’ve found so far. There’s
no Ralph Haller on the Internet listings for convictions in North
Carolina in the time frame you’re talking about.”

“
Sorry I wasted your time,”
I said as I started to leave.

“
Hold on a second. You don’t
truly believe I’m going to give up that easily, do you? I did an
alternate search for Ralph H convictions, and I’ve got five
possibilities for you.” She handed me a sheet with five dates
printed on it. “You can check the newspaper stories while I keep
digging.”

She led me to a corner where the microfilm
was stored, along with two ancient viewers. “I’m afraid you’ll have
to search by hand. This system is antiquated, but it’s the best we
can do with our budget.”

“
This is fine,” I
said.

“
Do you know how to work the
machine?”

I nodded. “Back when I went to college, this
was state of the art.”

“
You wouldn’t believe how
hard it is to teach the kids how to use this equipment. If you find
anything before I do, come tell me.”

“
Thanks again,” I said as
she stacked four reels of film ion the desk.

“
I haven’t even gotten
started yet,” she said.