Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  “Thanks, Frannie, I appreciate the information. The next time you come in, your bill’s on the house.”

  She said, “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not about to accept it, and you know it. I’ll pay my own way, Harrison Black. I always have, and I always will.”

  As I headed back to At Wick’s End, my mind was buzzing with ideas. I’d added two suspects in my hunt, one that didn’t surprise me and one that had knocked me off balance. I had no trouble visualizing Runion as a killer, but I just couldn’t see Mrs. Jorgenson doing it, despite what Frannie had told me. I wondered if Gretel’s brother would be interested in completing the deal his sister had refused. I’d surely like to talk to the beneficiary—the only person with a real concrete reason to want Gretel dead—but if the police couldn’t find him, I didn’t have a prayer. It was time to head back to River’s Edge.

  I worked the last hour with Eve, and though I could tell she was dying of curiosity to hear about what I’d been up to, I kept my thoughts to myself. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Mrs. Jorgenson’s possible involvement in Gretel’s death. I wasn’t even willing to acknowledge it myself, let alone say the words aloud.

  After we locked the door and ran our reports from the meager totals, she said, “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”

  “See you in the morning,” I said.

  She huffed once, then let herself out, not bothering to lock the door behind her. I waited a minute, then walked over and slid the deadbolt into place. I still had to make out the deposit, then head to the bank. I’d learned early on that the shop’s business had to come first. If there was time and energy left over, I could spend it however I wished. I had to admit, At Wick’s End—and River’s Edge in general—was a great amount of work to handle. I found myself admiring my Great-Aunt Belle more every day as I tried to follow in her footsteps.

  After I dropped off the deposit at the bank, I decided to head straight back to the complex instead of grabbing a bite out. There was peanut butter and jelly in my larder, and while it wasn’t a meal fit for a king, it would do for me. I slapped a sandwich together, made a tall glass of chocolate milk, then headed up to the roof. It was a little brisk for a picnic, but I needed some open space around me, and there was no place in the world more open than my secret getaway.

  Though it was still early, darkness had crept in like a thief and stolen the last bits of sunlight while I’d been making my meal. The roof was shrouded in shadows, but I knew the turf well enough to head unerringly to the cache holding my chair and blanket. As I settled in to eat, I marveled once again at the stars above me, punctuating the night with their brilliance. There was a halo around the moon, and a crisp bite to the air that made me feel alive. The wind kicked up off the river, and I shivered against its intrusion. It was a small price to pay for the sights and sounds I was experiencing. As I ate my sandwich, I took in my surroundings, happy that Belle had entrusted it all to me, but sad about the way I’d acquired it all.

  The cold finally drove me back inside before I was ready to give up the sky. I promised myself that when summer came, I’d bring a hammock and stand up on the roof if I had to hoist it with a crane so I could spend a night high above Micah’s Ridge.

  As I rinsed my dishes back in my apartment, there was a pounding on my door, and from the sound of it, whoever wanted me wasn’t there to share good news.

  I opened the door and found Markum standing in the hallway.

  “You’re back early,” I said, stepping aside as the big man came into my apartment. “Did something go wrong?”

  Markum had always been sketchy about what he did, and whenever I pressed him, he’d always say, “You’ll have to come with me sometime before you’ll get a word out of me,” and he’d leave it at that. I kept promising myself that someday I’d join him on one of his adventures. Markum had offered the possibility of great reward, and an equal amount of risk.

  He laughed heartily, and I knew that everything had turned out all right for him. “On the contrary, my friend, things went better than I had any right to expect. You should have been with me; the Florida Keys were beautiful. In fact, if you hadn’t been in a spot of trouble back here, I might have hung around a few weeks as a reward.”

  “I hate that you came back on my account,” I said.

  He slapped my shoulder, and I felt it sting. “Harrison, there are always pretty sights and even prettier girls around the next corner, but not when a friend needs a hand.”

  “So what happened on your trip?” I asked, never expecting an answer.

  He looked at me a few moments, then said, “I had to deal with some pirates.”

  “Come on, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but give me some credit.”

  Markum shook his head. “There are more pirates than the ones with eye patches and parrots, my friend.”

  “You mean like software pirating, that kind of thing?”

  “No, I’m talking about pirates on the water. A friend of a friend I know from another life called me with a horrific story. Seems a pretty bad man and his friends found out a young woman named Sammie Jo was alone on her yacht, so they decided to move in and make themselves comfortable, even if Sammie Jo had different ideas altogether.”

  “Why didn’t she call the police?” I asked.

  Markum shrugged. “There were threats made, very real ones at that. These fellows had some rather alarming manners. Sammie Jo managed to make one telephone call before they found her cell phone. She called Lisa and Lisa called me.”

  “So what did you do?” I asked. I couldn’t believe Markum was telling his story so calmly. My heart was racing just listening.

  “Well, I had a nice long chat with the gentlemen in question, and they decided to vacate the premises and not come back.”

  “So you convinced them quicker than you thought you would?”

  Markum shook his head. “I knew it wouldn’t take long to set them straight, but finding them was my main problem. Turns out they were holed up on Big Pine Key, and they weren’t trying to hide their presence there.”

  “How did you convince them?” I asked.

  Markum laughed. “You’re a curious fellow, aren’t you? Let’s just say that pirates aren’t the only ones who can make somebody walk the plank. By the time they all made it to shore, I knew they wouldn’t be bothering the lady in question again.”

  I tried to get more out of him, but he seemed to regret sharing what he had. I finally said, “Was Sammie Jo satisfied with the outcome?”

  “She was satisfied enough to bank my next excursion to Alaska and become a silent partner.”

  “You haven’t given up on that, have you?” Markum had been thwarted attempting something in Alaska, and it was one of the few times he’d come back with his tail between his legs. I wondered about the kind of people who could do that to a man with so much positive energy and sheer force of will.

  “I’m breathing, aren’t I? You’re still welcome to sign on and come with me.”

  “I’ll take a rain check,” I said. “I’ve got all I can handle here.”

  He ran a hand through that thick black hair of his. “Just wait. I’ll talk you into coming yet.”

  “You’ll have to do better than you’ve been able to do so far,” I said.

  Markum looked me up and down and said, “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

  “You bet I am, and I’m not afraid to admit it.”

  Markum cackled with delight. “Then I want you on my team for sure. It’s the fools who aren’t afraid that end up getting hurt. Now what’s going on with you?”

  I brought him up to date, hesitated when it came to the part about Mrs. Jorgenson, but I went ahead and gave him the details of everything I’d found out. After all, what good was it to have a sounding board if I didn’t come clean about everything I’d uncovered?

  “You’ve been busy,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

  “I feel like I’m spinning my whe
els,” I admitted. “I’m even more confused now than I was before.”

  “Harrison, you’re going about it the right way. If you’re not ready to come to any conclusions yet, it just means that you haven’t gathered enough information. Now let’s sit down and think this through. Where do we attack next?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve been trying to track down Gretel’s brother, but I can’t figure out how to do that if the police can’t even find him.”

  “How do you know they’re even looking? Come over to my office, I’ve got an idea or two about that.”

  I locked up my apartment and walked down the hallway to Markum’s office with him. I traced a finger across the gold leaf letters salvage and recovery on his door as I passed through it.

  He’d changed some of the travel posters on the walls since I’d been inside, and I was staring at one of Belize as he slipped behind his desk. Markum pulled a notebook computer out and started tapping some keys.

  I asked, “What are you doing, looking for him on Google?”

  “I’ve got a better search engine than that, my friend. At least I do for the information we’re looking for.”

  “Do I want to know more than that?” I asked.

  Markum laughed. “Probably not. Hum,” he said as he stared at his screen. “Now isn’t that interesting?”

  “What is?”

  “There’s no photograph of Hans Barnett on file here, though there are several of Gretel Barnett.”

  “So he’s camera shy,” I said. “I know lots of folks that don’t like to have their pictures taken.”

  Markum scratched his head. “But do they hate it enough to move to a state with no photos on their driver’s licenses?”

  “That could just be a coincidence,” I said.

  Markum shrugged. “Maybe, but it appears our boy has been avoiding the camera for years. Wait a second, let me try something else.” He tapped more keys, then said, “Blast it all, that’s a dead end, too.”

  “Do we really need a picture of the man to track him down?” I asked.

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I find it helps me in my search if I can match a face with every name. It can be embarrassing to bump into your quarry and let him slip right past you just because you weren’t thorough enough to find out what the gent looked like. I’ve got other sources, but not at my fingertips. Let me try something else.” After a few moments, he smiled gently. “That’s more like it. Here’s a web page Gretel did herself a few years ago. It hasn’t been updated for ages, but there’s something about her brother here.” As Markum read, he shared the information with me. “Okay, based on what she’s written here, the gentleman in question has gray hair that was once brown, he’s of average height and weight, he’s got cool blue eyes—whatever that means—he’s left-handed and he used to collect rare coins. His resume is a human resources director’s nightmare. From this one entry, it looks like he’s worked in a bank, on a farm, and at a hardware store; he’s worked as a carnie on the midway and he’s been a masseur. It’s not much to go on, is it?”

  “It’s more than I was able to track down. You got all that from her web page?” I was impressed. While I knew a few things about computers, mostly my skills covered just enough to be able to sell them in another life before I’d come to At Wick’s End. I’d even resisted getting a cell phone, mainly because I didn’t want to be that accessible to anyone.

  “Some people treat these pages like diaries,” Markum said. “It’s amazing what you can find if you just know where to look.”

  I thought about it for a moment, then said, “Do you think it’s possible that Hans had something to do with his sister’s death?”

  Markum tapped a few keys, then logged off. He said, “A good rule of thumb when somebody is murdered is to look around for motive. Everything else usually falls into place after you’ve determined the reason why; there’s got to be somebody out there looking to gain something, and I don’t just mean money. Hans Barnett is the obvious choice, but since he doesn’t appear to be anywhere around, we need to cast our nets a little farther.”

  “I still don’t think Mrs. Jorgenson had anything to do with what happened.”

  “And that’s based on what, your growing friendship with the woman? Harrison, that’s one of the things I admire about you, but just because you like someone doesn’t meant they’re incapable of some pretty terrible things.”

  I hoped he wasn’t talking about himself, but I was learning not to press him if I wasn’t sure I was going to like the answer.

  He leaned back in his chair, then said, “You haven’t said much about Pearly.”

  “He couldn’t have had anything to do with this,” I said. I may have had some doubt in my mind, but I would defend him with my last breath.

  Markum scowled. “If it’s not profit behind the trouble, it could be love.”

  “Do you honestly think Pearly could have had anything to do with Gretel’s murder? Come on, Markum, we’re talking about our friend here.”

  Markum picked up a pen from the desktop and began rolling it between his hands. “I admit it. I’ve grown to like the man myself, but whose word do we have but his own that he’s the one who broke it off with Gretel? Maybe it was the other way around. You spotted him at the fair on the morning of the murder, we can’t forget that. I’ll grant you that Pearly doesn’t appear to be the type to do something like this, but love can make you do strange things, my friend.”

  I shook my head. “Not this. I’m not sure I’d believe it if Pearly told me himself.”

  Markum shrugged. “So I’ll keep my doubts to myself about our handyman from now on unless I find something a little more substantial than what we’ve got so far. Is that a deal?”

  “I guess so,” I said. I didn’t like the fact that Pearly was suspect in any way, but until I could prove his innocence to Markum—and to myself—I’d have to do my best to find the truth. Markum deserved all the facts if I was going to ask him to help me.

  He ticked off his fingers as he spoke. “So we’ve got brother Hans, Pearly, Mrs. Jorgenson, Runion the developer, Martin Graybill and the Minnesota Mystery Man so far. Have I left anyone else out? Who else’s life has Gretel’s touched?”

  “You mean besides me?” I asked.

  Markum laughed. “For the purposes of this exercise, we’re exempting you, Harrison.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said, “Her cousin Jubal has been working with her at the candleshop, but from what he told me, he doesn’t inherit a thing. He’s just sticking around until Hans shows up.”

  “You know, maybe we should have a talk with Gretel’s lawyer. I wonder if we’re jumping to the wrong conclusion here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Markum said, “We all are under the impression that Gretel left everything to her brother, but do we know that for a fact? Who’s this attorney happen to be? I just hope it’s not Cragg, though it would make things easier.”

  “Come on,” I said, “Just because I have a key to his place doesn’t mean I’m going to snoop around in his office.”

  “Now who said anything about you doing something like that? I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Jubal told me the attorney Gretel hired was ancient, but that’s all I remember. If he told me the man’s name, it’s slipped my mind.”

  Markum said, “Then you’ll have to speak with Jubal tomorrow and get that memory refreshed.”

  “I’m not going to help you break in to somebody’s office, Markum.”

  “Harrison, I’m shocked, absolutely shocked, by your implication.”

  I started to say something, but the mock severity of his gaze made me laugh instead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to impugn your honor,” I said.

  “I’ll forgive you this time,” he said, the gleam in his eye brightening. “So it’s settled. Tomorrow you speak with Jubal and get me that name, then I’ll take it from there.” Markum’s phone rang before I could protest further, and after a moment
’s consultation with his caller, he put a hand over the receiver and said, “It’s Sammie Jo from the Keys.”

  “The pirates aren’t back, are they?”

  Markum smiled softly. “Not with the lesson I gave them. No, it sounds like she misses me.”

  “You’d better watch out, Markum, she may be getting too attached to you.”

  “You worry about your problems and I’ll worry about mine,” he said with a smile. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  I left Markum to his telephone call, a small part of me jealous that there was someone in the world who missed him. I wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment. In fact, I barely dated, and I missed that last phone call before bed, someone to wrap up the day with. I wished Sammie Jo luck in settling Markum down as I got ready for bed, but knew she’d have an epic task before her.

  Markum was not the settling kind.

  In all honesty, I was beginning to wonder if I was the type myself. No, I was just going through a dry spell when it came to my love life. I missed having a steady relationship with a woman, and hoped to have one again sometime in the future. For the moment, though, I had a very demanding mistress in River’s Edge, and I doubted she’d take kindly to any distractions from my attention to her.

  Chapter 9

  I was startled the next morning when Mrs. Jorgenson— my erstwhile star student and newest suspect—walked into the candleshop.

  “Harrison, we need to talk.”

  That tone of voice couldn’t lead to anything good. Trying to cajole her out of her dark mood, I asked, “Are you ready for your next lesson? I could probably squeeze you in now before things get busy.” In all honesty, I didn’t have very high hopes that business would pick up any more than the trickle of customers we’d had the past few days.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t have time for that right now. There is something we need to resolve.”