by Tim Myers
My eyes were just starting to clear when another flash of lightning blasted into the room.
Even worse luck, I happened to be looking toward one of the bay windows in front of the candleshop. The lightning strike was like a blow to the chest, driving me back against a display bench, and extinguishing the candle in my grasp.
But it wasn’t just the harshness of the explosion that made me stumble backward. There, by the window, was a bloodless white face peering in at me.
I dropped the candle as my back hit a display shelf, my sight lost again from the flash of lightning. The man outside beat on the window and yelled, “Open up,” as I scrambled blindly for the beeswax candle. I finally chased it down under one of the shelves. That’s the problem with cylindrical objects; they have a tendency to roll. Just as I started to light the wick again, the power came back on.
The ghostly face I’d seen was clear now with illumination. Standing outside the shop was a man in uniform, soaked to the bone, with one of the palest complexions I’d ever seen in my life. He flashed a badge and repeated his command to open up.
I did so, but not before grabbing a hand-forged iron candlestand that would do in a pinch as a weapon.
“I’m one soaked rat,” the cop said as he walked in, shaking the water from his jacket and running his fingers through his hair. “The rain’s coming down so hard and blowing in under the awning I didn’t have a chance.” He noticed the stand in my hand and added, “Plan on clubbing a cop, are you?”
“Do you mind if I have another look at that badge?”
He grinned, a reaction that surprised me. “Don’t mind a bit. Listen, I hate to leave puddles all over your store, Belle would have shot me. How about getting me a towel from the bathroom? She keeps extras on the shelf above the mirror.”
I glanced at his badge, then retrieved a towel. Man, I was getting too paranoid for my own good. First, the wind had rustled through the bushes, then that storm really had given me the creeps. Seeing the sheriff’s pale face lurking in the window hadn’t helped matters.
As he dried off, the sheriff said, “My name’s Coburn. You must be Harrison. Belle told me a lot about you. She was a truly fine lady.”
I nodded. “I think so too. Did you come to investigate the break-in upstairs?”
Coburn shook his head, drying some of the moisture from his hair. “I thought Stevens took care of that.”
“He seemed to think it was some random act of violence,” I said.
“And you believe differently,” he said flatly.
“Think about it. Whoever broke in had to have had a key. There was no sign that the lock had been forced, and Lucas Young swears he locked the door behind him when he came by to do his inventory this morning. The lock worked fine too, I tested it myself after everyone else was gone. And another thing, what thief in his right mind would randomly break into an apartment on the second floor of a building like this? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“So your instincts are better than my man’s,” he said evenly. “Mind if I ask what qualifications you’ve got?”
I debated telling him I’d cut my teeth on Agatha Christie, and had continued my love affair with mysteries ever since. I figured out the killer more times than not in just about every book I read, but I doubted it would carry much weight with him. “Common sense. I tried to tell your man that, but he seemed more concerned with your jewelry store robbery.”
The sheriff stopped toweling his hair for a moment as he gave me a solid stare. “The robbery’s nothing, as far as I’m concerned. It’s the murder that’s got my blood boiling. I take it personally when somebody dies in my jurisdiction.”
Okay, I had to admit he had a point. “I understand that, but I still don’t like the idea of somebody breaking in Belle’s place, no matter what your deputy thinks happened.”
Coburn said, “I read the report. Like you said, there was no sign of forced entry, so the door was either unlocked when the thief got there, or whoever was up there had a key. Either way, that problem should be over now that you have a new lock on the apartment door.”
“How did you know that?” I asked.
“I was playing chess with Christine Lanina when you called her. Christine’s not just a good locksmith, she’s a fine chess player. Blast it all, I thought I had her last move figured out, but she managed to come up with something new, so now I’m stuck again.”
I took the offered towel back from him, considerably wetter now, and said, “Thanks for explaining how you knew about the new lock. I was beginning to think everybody in Micah’s Ridge knew what I was up to.”
He laughed, but there wasn’t a great deal of humor in it. “Don’t kid yourself, Harrison, everybody most likely does. You lived in big cities too long. It sounds like you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in a small town.”
A thought suddenly struck me. “So if you’re not here about the burglary, why did you come out here on a night like this?”
He shrugged. “Belle didn’t believe in funerals, so there was no real way for me to say good-bye. I argued with her till I was blue in the face that the funeral wouldn’t have been for her at all. It’s a way for folks to deal with their loss, you know what I mean?” He studied his hands a moment, then added, “Anyway, I drove out here because I miss her. You have my condolences. The world’s a little darker without her in it.”
I took his hand, surprised by the gesture and the softness in his voice. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I miss her too.”
Coburn glanced outside, and for the first time I noticed that the storm had abated during our conversation. He followed my gaze and said, “It’s just drizzling now. I’d better get on home.” The sheriff started for the door, then added, “You’re working pretty late yourself, aren’t you?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted.
Coburn nodded. “Lot of that going around these days.” He took a card from his wallet and handed it to me. “Anything else comes up, you call me.”
I took the card. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
After he was gone, I turned off the lights and locked up the store.
The storm had been a release for me, a purging. My jumpiness earlier was now gone. The intensity of the lightning barrage, and then the sight of what had looked like a corpse outside my window had buried me in a wash of adrenaline. Suddenly, I was so tired I barely made it up the stairs back to my apartment, and to my great surprise, sleep came easily after all.
Chapter 4
“Millie, these are the best doughnuts I’ve ever had in my life, blueberry or otherwise,” I said as I finished the third on my plate at The Crocked Pot the next morning. There were quite a few people there, no doubt due to Millie’s fine offerings. She’d saved me two, and I’d added a third myself from the quickly-dwindling stack under glass on the counter. I was in the habit of walking in the evenings for exercise at my old apartment, something I was going to have to start again if I was going to be able to keep fitting into my clothes. I’ve got a weakness for the taste and aroma of freshly baked goodies, and I could see my relationship with Millie was going to be trying, a constant battle with temptation. This time temptation won, hands down.
“That’s a real compliment,” she said. “Are you sure you won’t have another?”
I patted my stomach. “Not if I’m going to be able to fit through the door of At Wick’s End.”
I was just tossing my paper plate in the trash can when Gary Cragg, the attorney from upstairs, came in. “Mr. Black, I need a moment of your time.”
“That’s about all I can give you,” I said. “I’ve got to move my things to River’s Edge before we open the candle shop this morning.” In truth, I knew I should have moved the day before, or even slept in my old apartment until I could get settled at Belle’s, but I hadn’t been up to tackling it after the day I’d had. I had to admit, it would feel more comforting having my own things around me again. I hadn’t minded using Belle’s shampoo, though I did smell faintly
of apricots now, but I drew the line at borrowing her razor, and the stubble on my chin was starting to bother me.
Cragg looked around at the customers enjoying Millie’s breakfast offerings. “I’ll take whatever time you can give me, but I’d much rather speak with you in private. Why don’t we go up to my office?”
“Walking up and down the stairs would burn all the time I’ve got.” I thought about it a second, then suggested, “I can give you a minute outside on the front steps. Otherwise, it will have to wait until tonight.” I was pushing my luck as it was, planning to pack my meager belongings, move them to River’s Edge and still have time to prep myself for the next day’s candlemaking lesson with Mrs. Jorgenson. Eve had been emphatic that I get in more practice rolling candles before I tackled the important private lesson with the woman who could make or break us.
Cragg glanced at his watch. “We can’t do this in a minute or two. I’m free after five. We’ll meet in my office then.”
With that, he dismissed me, but I didn’t have time to come up with something snappy to say in response. I’ve been known to have a slight problem with authority figures in the past, so I didn’t take too kindly to the order implicit in his request, especially since he was my tenant, and not the other way around.
Maybe I’d show up at five, and maybe I wouldn’t.
At the moment, I had some packing to do.
It was amazing how little I’d acquired in the way of possessions over the years. After packing two boxes of keepsakes, a suitcase and travel bag stuffed with clothes, I was ready to move. I tossed out some things in my refrigerator that had been in there so long they were taking on lives of their own and grabbed a stack of paperbacks and magazines I’d already read to give to Mrs. Harper, the sweet old gal who lived next door. We often made it a habit of swapping reading materials. She had the most eclectic tastes of anybody I’d ever known, and a mind that had sharpened to a fine point over the years from her constant reading.
After I brought her up-to-date on my vastly changed life, she said, “I hate to see you go, Harrison. I’m going to miss you.”
As I handed her my ragtag collection of reading materials, I said, “I’ll miss you too, but I can’t stay. It just makes sense this way now that I’ve got an apartment over the candle shop. Don’t worry, I’ll come see you when I get the chance.”
“I might just surprise you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ve always been quite fond of candles. I may just come visit you at your store sometime soon.”
“That would be great. Just give me time to get settled in first.”
She smiled softly, “And wait until you learn how to make candles as well?” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine, Harrison.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She surprised us both by kissing me on the cheek just before saying good-bye.
And that was that, the final tie I had to my old life. At least it was near the end of the month, so I didn’t waste much on unused rent. The landlord took my key, shrugged but otherwise showed no sign that my presence would be missed.
I loaded everything in the back of my pickup and I was on my way to my new home.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked into At Wick’s End seventeen minutes before it officially opened.
Eve said, “Belle and I had a morning routine before the shop opened every morning. We arrive forty-five minutes before the doors are unlocked.” She tried to hide the scolding in her voice.
“I had to move my things here from my old apartment,” I said, finding it odd that the owner was explaining his non-tardiness to his employee like a small child in school. I added, “By the way, if you’re interested, I’ve got a few boxes of Belle’s things if you’d like to look through them before I take them to the Salvation Army.”
“I do perfectly well on my own,” Eve said. The ground we’d made the day before was in danger of slipping away.
“I’m not asking if you want charity,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I thought you might like a keepsake or two, that’s all. I’m holding onto a beautiful two-foot candle myself.”
Eve’s hard edges softened instantly. “The red one? It was the last candle Belle made. Harrison, I’m sorry, I appreciate the offer, I really do.” She let out a heavy sigh, then said, “It’s not that I resent Belle leaving everything to you, she was perfectly within her rights to do so, but I imagined I’d inherit At Wick’s End someday myself.” Realizing how it must have sounded, she quickly added, “Not from her death, mind you, but Belle always talked about living at the beach someday, somewhere on the Outer Banks perhaps, and I just naturally assumed, well, we all know what that leads to. Forgive me,” she said simply.
I said, “Eve, there’s nothing to forgive. You have every right to feel the way you do, but you should know that I want to stay here and keep making’ candles with you. I can’t wait to learn more, and I’m most appreciative you’re willing to teach me.”
Was that a hint of rose on her cheeks? “That’s why I’m here. Would you like to help me get ready for the day? We need to start by pulling stock from the storeroom.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I need to learn my way around sometime, and you showed me where everything was yesterday.”
“It’s just as well you handle that,” Eve said. “Belle was very particular about anyone going in the stockroom but her. She knew where everything was all the time, and she didn’t want anyone disturbing her system. As a matter of fact, the only time she’d let me step a foot inside was if she needed help. I just wish she’d asked ...”
As her words faded, I stood there again, not knowing what to do to offer her comfort. Eve took a deep breath, then seemed to calm herself.
Before I could disappear in the back, Eve said, “I noticed you had a visitor last night after hours.”
“How in the world could you know that?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, I’m no Sherlock Holmes,” she said laughing. “There was a puddle near the door, and I noticed a damp towel in the bathroom.”
I nodded. “The sheriff came by, and I happened to be down here looking around when the storm hit. He nearly drowned out there.”
Was it my imagination, or did Eve’s eyes harden for just an instant? “And what did he want with you?”
“He came by to offer his condolences about Belle. I’d been hoping he was following up on the break-in upstairs, but no such luck.”
Eve looked surprised by the news. “What are you talking about? What break-in?”
And here I’d thought the tenants at River’s Edge were all prescient. “Somebody broke into Belle’s place looking for something yesterday. Twice, to be exact. They made a real mess of things.”
“What in the world could they have been looking for? Belle didn’t keep any money or jewelry around her apartment, she didn’t believe in owning expensive things. Frankly, I can’t imagine anything there worth taking the risk of being caught.”
“I have no idea. Don’t worry, though, I changed the locks, so it won’t happen again. Did you happen to have a key to Belle’s,” I asked softly.
“Now why would I have one of those? We worked together, Harrison, but our private lives were just that.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I quickly said. “I just thought she might have left you a spare in case something happened to hers.”
“Well she didn’t,” Eve said abruptly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a great many things to do before we’re ready to open.”
The storeroom was locked, but I wasn’t about to ask Eve about any more keys if I could help it. I walked back to the small cubby of an office that aspired to be a broom closet in another life and started my search. Eve pointedly ignored me as I walked past her. She earnestly scanned the shelves, making notes on a clipboard as she worked. Now what had I said to offend her so? I wasn’t looking forward to tiptoeing around my own employee, but at the moment, I needed her a great deal more than she ne
eded me. It appeared I’d have to wear soft-sole shoes for some time to come.
It didn’t take long to find the key, as it was hanging on a nail near the entrance. Thank goodness there was a faded tab taped to the key that identified it.
In fact, there were two nails on the wall behind the office door, side by side, and I couldn’t help wondering if that was where Belle had kept a spare key to her apartment. It would make it handy for her, and Eve would certainly have known about it. But I’d already asked her about the key, and she’d denied having one. I thought back about precisely what she’d claimed, and suddenly realized that Eve hadn’t said a word about having access to a key, just that she hadn’t had one in her possession. It was strictly the truth, but missed the implication of it by a mile. Or could I be reading too much in a single naked nail? There could have been a thousand reasons why that nail had been placed there, and I couldn’t spend all day guessing. Asking Eve was certainly out of the question, so I had no choice but to drop it. I had enough on my mind as it was.
I had a new trade to learn if I was going to keep Belle’s candle shop afloat.
I grabbed the key and unlocked the storeroom door.
A shiver ran through me as I realized that this was where Belle had died just a few days earlier. Why in the world had she been climbing a ladder in the first place, when a strong strapping woman like Eve was nearby? I could reach the top shelf without the stepladder, but I was a good foot taller than Belle had been. She must have had to extend all the way up the small ladder to reach the beeswax sheets and wicks they’d found near her body.