Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  She said, “I won’t wager on a sure thing against me. You should hear some of the questions they’ve been asking me about you.”

  “No doubt I’m going to.”

  The next person in line said, “I saw the sheriff’s patrol car out front. How’d you manage to convince him you didn’t do it?”

  Eve rang up his sale as I replied, “That one’s easy. I’m not guilty.”

  “Hey, that’s not much of an answer.”

  I shrugged and said, “Well, you didn’t buy much, did you?”

  That sent several people in line scurrying back to the shelves. I saw Eve watching me closely, and I asked, “Is that a smile?”

  She chuckled softly. “Harrison, you’re incorrigible, you know that, don’t you?”

  “So I’ve been told. How are we doing? I just about sold out my stock at the street fair.”

  Eve said, “Oh, we’re having a banner day. I thought about closing up as the crowd began to grow, but then I figured you’d want to stay open.”

  “I know you don’t approve, but I appreciate it anyway.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not up to me, but do you think Belle would have liked this?”

  My Great-Aunt had loved candlemaking, so I’d been told by those closest to her, but she hadn’t been that enthusiastic about marketing and promoting her wares. I was more concerned with the bottom line. Besides, it wasn’t like I was trying to benefit from Gretel’s murder. There was a good chance many of my regular customers might shun me until I was cleared of suspicion, and if I was going to keep my business afloat, I had to take advantage of the opportunities as they presented themselves.

  “The thing you’ve got to remember is that Belle wanted the candleshop to stay open.”

  “But at what cost?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that, and fortunately the line was re-forming. There was a man up front with a basket full of our most expensive stock, both kits and actual candles that Eve and Belle had poured themselves. There was even one of my creations in his selection, something I felt very good about.

  He handed the basket to Eve and said, “Take your time.” He then turned to me and said, “Harrison, I understand there was bad blood from the start between you and Gretel Barnett.”

  “I wasn’t exactly thrilled she was opening up a candleshop franchise so close to my shop, but I was willing to extend a neighborly hand to her.”

  “So what’s this I hear about you two facing down in a shouting match this morning?”

  This guy was relentless. “We had a disagreement, plain and simple. I’m sorry we won’t have the opportunity to resolve it.” And that was true. I felt a little sick that Gretel had died with bad blood brewing between us. She wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but that still didn’t mean I’d wanted to see her dead.

  “Were you trying to bury her, like you said?”

  I was doing my best not to lose my temper, but he was goading me. “She said she was going to bury me, not the other way around.”

  Finally Eve handed the man his card slip and he signed a hasty scrawl. As our customer took it, he said, “How about this relationship between the murder victim and one of the men here at River’s Edge?”

  Before I could answer, Eve said, “That’s it, I knew your name sounded familiar. You’re Tom Francis from The Gunpowder Gazette, aren’t you?”

  Oh, no! I hadn’t realized I was being interviewed by the newspaper trying to hang me.

  It was time to get rid of him. “Your shopping trip is over, and if you quote me, I’ll deny every word of it.”

  He grinned and held up a tape recorder he’d retrieved from his front pocket. “Just try it.”

  As he scurried away, I said, “No more interviews. Buy or don’t buy, I’m finished talking.”

  Half the people left at the announcement, but the rest lingered, hoping I’d change my mind. Eve said, “Nothing like locking the barn after the horses are all gone.”

  “Was it that bad? Did I say anything I shouldn’t have?”

  “Harrison, anything more than ‘no comment’ would have been too much.”

  I nodded. “Okay, maybe I should have given it a little more thought before I made my offer to them.”

  As Eve rang up another sale, she said, “I wouldn’t waste my time worrying about it. Chances are they would have smeared you without the interview.”

  “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

  We got through the rest of the customers as closing time neared. I had had enough. “Why don’t we lock up early? All I want to do is to go upstairs, take a hot shower and lose myself in a good book.”

  Eve said, “I thought our table was still at the fair? And weren’t you supposed to help Heather take her display down, too?”

  “Blast it, I forgot all about that.”

  “If you’d like, I suppose I could do it.”

  I shook my head. “No, I need to do it myself. I promised Heather I’d be there. You can shut down early if you’d like.”

  “You know how I feel about that. I’ll stay open till the posted store hours are over.”

  “Just leave the deposit then. I’ll make it this evening.”

  As I headed for the Ford truck, I was surprised to find a stranger waiting nearby for me. The alley behind River’s Edge was as uninviting a place as I’d ever seen, not exactly a spot to linger. The man wore faded blue jeans and a jacket that had seen its share of rough weather. I thought about turning around and going back inside when he called my name.

  “Harrison Black?”

  “What can I do for you,” I said, clenching my key ring in my fist.

  “I want to talk to you about what happened today.”

  Yeah, well, I didn’t. “Listen, I’m tired of answering questions. If you want to hear what really happened, read the newspaper tomorrow and believe just the opposite of what they’ll be printing.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I was at the fair today. I know you didn’t kill her, because I saw who did.”

  “Are you serious? You need to go to the police.”

  He looked at River’s Edge, then said, “This place must be worth a fortune.”

  “You’d have to ask the bank, it mostly belongs to them. What’s that got to do with anything, anyway?’

  “I was thinking maybe there’d be some kind of reward for coming forward,” the man said softly.

  “Get out of here,”

  It was obviously not the kind of reaction he was expecting. “What do you mean? You’re not going to pay me?”

  “For telling the truth? I doubt you’d know it if it bit you on the leg. You probably weren’t even at the fair today. Now go away.”

  He started to do as I’d asked, but paused before leaving the alley. “I could have seen it the other way just as easily, you know. If I give it enough thought, I might just remember that I saw you shoot her after all.”

  “You’re bluffing now.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Because there’s nothing in it for you. Besides, I didn’t do it.”

  I started the truck, my hands shaking from the confrontation. I couldn’t believe anybody would try to shake me down for testifying to the truth. I realized that I’d better mention what had happened in the parking lot to the sheriff, just in case the lunatic tried to follow through with his threat of smearing me. I didn’t need any more headaches at the moment than I already had. I finally managed to collect myself by the time I got to New Conover. It was just in time to break the displays down, too. Most likely I was in for another round of accusations before the night was over.

  Surprisingly, things were quiet as Heather and I dismantled our tables. She said, “It’s been like this all afternoon. The other vendors have been ignoring me, and the customers just stare as they walk by.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I feel responsible.”

  “It’s not your fault, Harrison,” she said. “I can’t believe this ha
ppened right under our noses. Who would have had any reason to shoot Gretel Barnett?”

  “Do you mean besides me?”

  “Come on, I already told you, I know you didn’t do it. But I can’t help wondering who did.”

  “I don’t have a clue. It could have been anybody. With all those firecrackers going off and the crowds milling around, it would be so easy for the killer to fade back into the mob. It’s really none of my business.”

  Heather said, “You’re joking, right? If anybody should be searching for the killer, it should be you.”

  “Why? Let the police handle it. Sheriff Morton’s good at what he does.”

  “So you’re willing to let your candleshop die, just like that? Harrison, there’s something you don’t understand. Just the implication that you had anything to do with Gretel’s death could be enough to destroy your business. What she couldn’t do in life, she might just manage in death.”

  “We had a load of customers today,” I said in my own defense.

  “Curiosity seekers,” she said. “How many of your regular customers will come back if they think you’re a killer? Do you think Mrs. Jorgenson is going to come waltzing in for more private lessons while you have this hanging over your head? Believe me, you’d better figure out who killed Gretel, and do it soon if you want to keep At Wick’s End open.”

  I hadn’t even thought about Mrs. Jorgenson. If I lost her business, which I very possibly could, my profit margin would sink like a stone in the Gunpowder. Heather was right. If I was going to keep my candleshop open, I was going to have to figure out who had killed the only other chandler in town.

  After unloading Heather’s things back at River’s Edge and putting the tables we’d used back into storage, I decided to pay a visit to Flickering Lights to see if I could find anything that might point to a reason Gretel had been murdered. Knowing Sheriff Morton, there was a good chance he would be there himself, and while he probably wouldn’t be all that crazy about me just showing up, maybe I’d be able to find something out that would help clear me.

  The new candleshop was lit up when I got there, though there was no sign that the police were anywhere around. Morton must have finished his search and moved on. I tried the door anyway and was surprised when it opened. As I walked inside the franchise store, I saw that Gretel didn’t shy away from carrying the most expensive candlemaking kits available, and the prices on her display pieces were nearly double mine. I didn’t know if she’d be able to sell much of her wares, but with the mark-up she’d built in, it wouldn’t take much for her to show a profit.

  Two steps inside, I spotted an older gentleman behind the counter, nervously rubbing the bridge of his nose with one finger. He looked up and said, “I’m sorry, but we’re not really open. I shouldn’t even be here, but I don’t know what else to do. The police just left.”

  He wasn’t going to get rid of me that easily. “My name’s Harrison Black. I wanted to come by and tell you I’m sorry for your loss.”

  He nodded. “I’m Jubal Grant. Of course I know you; you’re the owner of At Wick’s End. It’s a delightful shop; I’ve been there a time or two myself. Pearly speaks quite highly of you.”

  “You know Pearly?” What did my handyman have to do with any of this?

  “Of course I do. I thought you knew. He and Gretel were quite an item; they had been for some time. In fact, he helped us set up here. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

  “No, that’s fine. Pearly’s free to do whatever he wants in his free time. I’m just surprised he didn’t say anything to me about it before.”

  “He’s the one who called and told me about Gretel. I understand you were there when it happened.”

  Great. “I don’t know what he said, but—”

  “Please, I’ve already heard the rumors, but I don’t believe you had anything to do with Gretel’s death, Mr. Black. Pearly agreed with me that it was a preposterous notion. She was feeling the pressure of your presence in Micah’s Ridge, but I’m sure it wasn’t personal. I can’t imagine anyone seriously thinking you had anything to do with what happened to her today.”

  “Excuse my asking, but how well did you know her?”

  He sighed. “Too well. I’m not just an errant employee, if that’s what you’re asking. Gretel was my second cousin. I suppose I’ll have to deal with the funeral arrangements since her brother Hans isn’t here, but I don’t want to have to think about that now. I came back to the candleshop when the police called me. What a nightmare. The sheriff was most intrusive, asking all sorts of questions. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help. Gretel and I had been drifting apart over the years. She called me last month to come help her with the candleshop, and I thought it would give us a chance to get reacquainted. I’m retired myself, but Micah’s Ridge sounded delightful, so I agreed to help out. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

  “Do you have any idea who might have killed her?”

  Jubal said, “Sheriff Morton asked me that same question. I haven’t a clue who would want her dead. Gretel was so alive, do you know what I mean? And now her life’s been snuffed out like an errant candlewick.” He dabbed at a tear, then said, “She always said I was too dramatic. I’ll miss so much about her.”

  “So what happens to the shop now?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a clue. I suspect all of her worldly goods were tied up in it. I suppose it will all go to her brother. She and Hans were estranged, but as twins, there was a real bond between them.”

  “Their parents named them Hans and Gretel?” The cruelty of some people when they named their children astounded me.

  “I admit, it was a difficult time for them growing up. As if their being fraternal twins wasn’t enough reason for them to stand out. Honestly, I don’t even know how to find Hans. He dropped out of sight a dozen years ago, and no one in the family has seen him since. It’s been thirty years since I’ve laid eyes on the man myself.”

  “There’s no one else?”

  He shook his head. “Our line is a dying branch of the family tree. Besides Hans, I’m all that’s left.”

  I couldn’t think of anything more to say, so I said, “If there’s anything I can do, let me know, okay?”

  Jubal shook my hand. “That’s quite kind of you, Harrison. I may take you up on your generous offer later, after I’ve had a chance to find out where things stand. Thank you for stopping by.”

  I was at the door when Jubal said, “I just thought of something. It’s probably nothing, but we got the strangest telephone call yesterday. It upset Gretel quite a bit.”

  “Do you know who was calling?”

  Jubal shook his head. “No, but I did hear something Gretel said. I’m not even sure I heard her correctly, I was standing six feet away. As I said, it’s probably nothing.”

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  He hesitated, then said, “I remember thinking how odd it was. I could have sworn she said, ‘I’m not your wife,’ but Gretel never married. I must have misunderstood her.”

  “Well, if you think of anything else, let me know.”

  Jubal said, “Am I correct in assuming you’re looking into what happened to Gretel yourself?”

  “I need to clear my name,” I said simply.

  “Of course, I understand. I’m willing to help you in whatever way I can, Harrison. Believe me, I know from experience that rumors can be fatal.”

  Chapter 5

  When I got back to my apartment at River’s Edge, there were twenty-seven messages waiting for me on my machine. I couldn’t face listening to them, though. I grabbed a jacket and headed up the secret hatch tucked away in my closet. As I climbed the rungs to the roof, I was glad no one else in the world had access to my hideaway. With twilight fading, the air was shifting from brisk to downright cold on the rooftop overlooking the Gunpowder River, but I was willing to put up with the plummeting temperatures to get away from the world for a while. I took o
ut my lawn chair from the storage box and grabbed a heavy blanket. The wind had blown out the clouds, leaving a night sky filled with stunning starlight. We were far enough from Micah’s Ridge to avoid most of the direct illumination, and when Pearly and I had installed lights around the complex, I’d made sure none of them interfered with my stargazing. Thinking of Pearly made me wonder what my handyman had been up to lately. The fact that he’d been dating and supporting my main competition was something I had a hard time getting used to. I’d thought Pearly was one of my staunchest allies at River’s Edge, always there when I needed him, but I was beginning to wonder if I’d misplaced my trust in him. Had that been what he’d wanted to talk to me about at the fair? Was he having a guilty conscience about his relationship with Gretel? I wasn’t sure how I was going to act toward him after the revelation that he’d been dating her. If I couldn’t trust Pearly, then who could I trust? Who could I talk to about the churning issues stirring in my mind? As I sat there mulling over my dour thoughts, I began to think that solitude might not be the best thing for me at the moment. So where was there to turn to for a willing ear? I would have knocked on Markum’s door, but he was away on one of his mysterious salvage and recovery trips. There was Millie, the woman who so ably ran The Crocked Pot. She was a good listener, but no doubt she was off somewhere enjoying time with her husband George. Heather had shown signs of roller-coaster reactions to things that had happened in the past, so I really didn’t want to discuss the day’s events with her, and Gary Cragg was a man I doubted I’d ever be able to trust. Sanora, our resident potter, was becoming a friend, but I still didn’t know her well enough to open up completely. Erin was off on an expedition, leading a group of rafters on a trip down the New River in West Virginia. I’d met her the first time I’d tried a kayak at her business, and there was definitely a spark between us, but that didn’t mean I could bare my soul to her just yet, either. That left my mechanic and friend Wayne, but he was giving all of his attention lately to the new lady in his life. Though I’d acquired an entire new roster of friends with the addition of River’s Edge to my life, there really was no one around I could talk to.