At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  “I know just what you mean. I’ve got a candle she made. From what Eve said it was the last one she ever poured, and I’ve been burning it an hour a night in her memory.”

  Heather touched my hand. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  April joined us again at the booth, carrying a monstrous pizza in one hand and a tray holding three beers.

  Heather protested, “Hey, I ordered a small pizza.”

  April nodded and said with a grin, “I need to take a break and get off my feet for a while, so I thought I’d join you.” The pizzeria owner looked uncertain for a moment, then added, “Unless this is a date. My goodness, I’ve put my foot in it again, haven’t I?”

  Heather and I spoke simultaneously. “This isn’t a date.”

  We stared at each other, then laughed at the same time.

  April said, “Okay, I get it, no need to shout. So would you two like some company?”

  I scooted over to make room for her. “That would be great.”

  After we ate, I offered to pay. April looked at my money as if it were tainted with sludge. “Save it, Harrison. I just hope I get the chance to earn that and more.”

  “I’ll definitely be back,” I said, patting my stomach. I’d eaten entirely too much pizza, but the combination of good beer, better pizza and excellent conversation made me as hungry as a wolf in winter.

  “That’s all I need to hear,” she said as she gathered up what was left of our meal. “See you’all later,” April said as she whisked the empty platter and mugs away.

  Heather asked me if I was ready to go, and I agreed. It had been a big day, even without the robbery. As we walked out of the restaurant, Elvis was having a “Blue Christmas.”

  Back at River’s Edge, Heather stopped the car and said, “Thanks Harrison. That was great fun.”

  “I should be the one thanking you,” I said. “I really needed this tonight.”

  As she started to get out too, I said, “Hey, you don’t have to walk me to my door.”

  Heather said with a smile, “Don’t you wish. I want to go by my storage locker and get my gym bag. I’m going for a run in the morning and I usually leave my stuff here, but it’s in desperate need of washing. I’ve been absolutely glowing lately.”

  “Glowing?” I asked, not sure exactly what she meant.

  Heather said, “Harrison, surely you know that Southern women don’t sweat. But boy, do we ever glow.”

  Instead of veering off to The New Age, she followed me up the steps.

  “Okay, now you can’t deny it. You’re stalking me,” I said.

  “Easy, big guy, the lockers are upstairs. Didn’t anybody tell you about them?”

  I shook my head. “If they did, I forgot all about it. Why do you need a storage locker away from your store?”

  “It was Belle’s idea. There’s a shower that locks and a changing area too. This way we all have a reason to say ‘hi’ in the mornings if we have one central place to congregate. Just about everyone here uses a locker. You need one of these to get in,” she said as she held a key up.

  “I’ll have to get one from Pearly,” I said.

  “Belle had spares in her apartment. I lost mine three weeks ago and she replaced it with this new one.”

  Heather unlocked a door I’d ignored earlier and said, “Come on, the lockers are all in here.”

  She reached inside and flipped on the light switch.

  Someone had gotten there before us. Every last locker had been broken into, the cleanly cut locks lying on the floor amid all the personal items that had been stored in them. The perpetrator had vandalized the contents of the lockers, smashing perfume bottles, aftershave lotion and deodorant containers among the clothes, leaving everything with a wretched smell that would take dynamite to remove.

  I wanted to call Sheriff Coburn before Heather touched anything. “He may need to look for fingerprints,” I said. “Don’t let anyone mess with this.”

  I raced to Belle’s apartment, dialed the sheriff’s number and got him on the fifth ring.

  “Coburn here,” he said.

  “Sheriff, there’s been another break-in at River’s Edge. We need you down here.”

  Morgan said, “Was a store hit this time?”

  “It’s not a shop, it’s the employee locker room. The locks have all been cut and the contents thrown on the floor.”

  “Sounds like simple vandalism to me,” the sheriff said calmly.

  I said angrily, “You need a key to get in. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Harrison, Belle herself complained to me that folks were losing their keys all the time. Most likely some kid found one and thought he’d make a quick score.”

  “Did this ‘kid’ also just happen to have a set of bolt cutters on him? Those locks were cleanly sheared off.”

  “You’d be surprised by the kind of junk we pull off them. It’s likely a harmless stunt. I can’t imagine anyone crazy enough to store valuables up there.”

  “Does that mean you’re not coming?” I couldn’t believe his unwillingness to investigate.

  “Gee, Harrison, I’d love to drop everything to come over there and pat your hand, but I just had a hit-and-run on Elm, and I was kind of on my way over to that.”

  “At least stop by on your way back to the station,” I said, understanding his position a little better.

  “Clean up the mess, post a note about the keys and forget it, Harrison.”

  When I walked back to the locker room, Heather asked, “Is he coming?”

  I shook my head. “No, he claims he’s too busy.”

  “Typical,” Heather snorted. “We’re not all that high a priority for him, especially now that Belle’s gone. They were friends, but since she died, I haven’t seen him around River’s Edge.”

  I admitted, “He came by to offer his condolences, but everyone else was gone.”

  “Well, he gets a point for that, I guess.” She scanned the mess and asked, “So what do we do now?”

  “I guess I’ll clean it up,” I said as I started shaking broken glass out of a shirt on the floor.

  As we worked side by side, Heather said with disgust, “I just can’t imagine someone doing this. What were they looking for?”

  “The same thing they were hunting for in Belle’s apartment,” I said, forgetting for a moment that Heather was still one of my suspects.

  “Harrison, I loved Belle dearly, but I can’t imagine that she owned anything worth stealing, can you?”

  “Something’s going on around here,” I said, “and if the police aren’t going to do anything about it, I’m going to have to find out myself.”

  Heather swept up the last of the glass, and I finished putting the clothing in an empty box I’d found on top of one of the lockers.

  I said, “I’ll wash this mess and bring it back tomorrow.”

  She took the box from me and said, “You’re not going to ruin your washer. I’ll stop off at the Laundromat on the way home. I’ve got a load of my own to do, so it’s no problem.”

  “Are you sure?” I said. “I hate to ask you to do it.”

  “You didn’t ask. I volunteered. Good night, Harrison. What can I say? It’s been interesting.”

  “I can’t argue with that. Thanks again. For everything.”

  After Heather was gone, I wrote a note explaining what had happened and taped it to the front door of the locker room. At least that way no one would get a shock going in unprepared.

  Back in Belle’s apartment, finally settling in for the night, I double-bolted the new locks on the door. The place still didn’t feel all that safe to me until I lit Belle’s candle. There was something about watching that flickering flame that soothed my nerves and eased my spirit. It was almost as if I could feel Belle’s very real presence there with me. The cinnamon in the air made me long for one more batch of Snickerdoodles and a quiet afternoon with my great-aunt. By the time the candle had burned its allotted hour, I was no cl
oser to solving the mystery of the most recent break-in than I had been when I started.

  But I did feel more at peace than I had in a very long time. After I snuffed out the wick, I couldn’t keep myself from wondering why someone had so methodically sheared the locks off every locker, and then make such a horrible mess of the contents. Was it out of frustration, much as Belle’s break-in had been? The two incidents certainly looked like they were committed by the same vandal. But was the carnage a true reaction from the perpetrator, or was it just a clever cover-up to hide a more calculated search? Either way, I couldn’t help wondering if the thief had found what was being so diligently sought, or if we were going to have more robberies at River’s Edge.

  As a general rule, I always slept in on Sundays; it was a bit of a ritual for me. So I was stunned to find that it was barely past seven the next morning when I rolled out of bed, fully and completely awake. I knew myself well enough to realize that it wouldn’t do me a bit of good to try to go back to sleep. We didn’t open At Wick’s End until two on Sunday afternoons, so that gave me a lot of time on my hands. I thought about all the things I might do, from renting a movie, playing tennis with my friend Wayne, or curling up on the couch leisurely going through the Sunday paper.

  What I did was get dressed, grab a quick bowl of cereal, and head down to the shop so I could get an early jump on things at the candle shop. Running a business was quite a bit different from working for one. Sure, it was great being my own boss, but in many ways, I was turning out to be harder on myself than any of my previous employers ever had been.

  And I was determined to make up for my mistake yesterday, even if it meant working every minute I was awake until I found a way to repay the store the cost of my carelessness.

  “Don’t you ever take any time off,” Eve asked when she walked in later that day. I held up one of the books I’d been studying most of the morning and into the afternoon. “It’s the only way I’m going to be able to pitch in and do my share of the work around here. There’s a lot to learn, but I can’t keep running the cash register forever.”

  Eve nodded. “I must say, I’m impressed with your diligence in learning about candles.”

  I swallowed, then said, “Don’t be too impressed yet. There’s something I have to confess to you. I did something really stupid yesterday, Eve.” I proceeded to tell her what had happened with the deposits, and her lips pursed into a pair of grim lines.

  “The checks were lost as well,” she asked.

  “No, they were still in the truck, scattered all over the floor, but they were fine. I made out a new deposit slip and dropped off what was left at the bank. Eve, it was a mistake that won’t happen again.”

  She nodded. “Sometimes the only way we learn is the hard way.” If there was any scolding in her voice, she did her best to hide it.

  I felt a burden lift as we moved on to a discussion about the best way to pour candles, a technique I was very eager to learn. If I was being honest with myself, I was more concerned about telling Eve what I’d done than losing all that cash.

  Eve said, “Well, why don’t we straighten up the store and get ready for our customers?”

  “I’m all for that,” I said.

  As we put away the books and supplies that I’d pulled out from our inventory to study, I said in passing, “By the way, somebody broke into the lockers upstairs last night and wrecked the whole communal room.”

  Eye dropped the tin candle mold she was holding, and it clattered to the floor. “Oh, no,” she said, looking paler than I’d ever seen her.

  “There’s nothing that you can do now,” I said. “Heather and I cleaned everything up after we discovered what had happened. She even washed the soiled clothes. I’m afraid some of the spilled perfume and aftershave got on them during the break-in. They’re all sitting on the table, neat and pressed and ready to claim, if you had any clothes in your locker.” We had placed the other miscellaneous items we’d been able to salvage on the table as well. A couple of

  things had to be thrown away, but there were surprisingly few items that were totally lost.

  Eve nearly knocked me into a shelf as she brushed past me heading for the front door. I understood why she was so upset. It’s a violation when someone paws through your things, an offense much more serious than a few broken bottles and a pile of soiled clothes. The thief takes your sense of security from you, and that’s a much more terrible crime than mere property loss.

  When she returned ten minutes later, Eve had a frightened look about her.

  “What is it,” I asked, concerned that something else may have happened to her.

  “Harrison, this used to be such a safe place,” she said.

  “And it will be again,” I said, trying to soothe her. “The sheriff believes that what happened upstairs was just a random act of violence.” I didn’t add that I was of a different opinion entirely, since I was trying to ease her mind, not add to her worries.

  Eve said, “Harrison, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to work today,” as she grabbed her coat.

  “I can’t do this without you,” I said. Surely she was overreacting, but what could I do? I couldn’t very well chain her to the cash register to make her stay.

  “Close up then. I can’t stay here, not today.”

  As she reached for the door, I said, “You’re coming back tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t answer as she bolted out, slamming the door behind her.

  I couldn’t help wondering if the break-in had truly thrown her into such a panic, or if someone might have found something in her particular locker that she hadn’t wanted discovered.

  I went so far as to make up a closed sign for the front door when I decided to try running At Wick’s End by myself. What was the worst thing that could happen; I wouldn’t be able to help a customer? So, they could come back another day and Eve could help them, if she showed up. It was my store, blast it all, and I wasn’t about to let anything stand between me and my customers. If they went to all the trouble of coming down to River’s Edge, then the least I could do was keep my store open for them. I knew how complicated candlemaking could be, I’d read just enough to realize how much I didn’t know about the operation, but I’d do my best and above all, I’d be honest with whoever walked through my door. I hadn’t overtly lied to Mrs. Jorgenson, but I hadn’t done anything to correct her mistaken belief that I was some kind of candlemaking wizard, either. I wish I could have believed somewhere in my heart that the threat to the candle shop’s bottom line had nothing to do with the decision to keep my novice status to myself, but I couldn’t begin to justify that stand.

  I tore the homemade sign up, threw the pieces into the trash can, and turned on all the lights. At Wick’s End was open for business.

  Whether I was ready for my customers or not.

  My afternoon went better than I had any right to expect. I couldn’t have done a full shift alone, but in the six hours I stayed open I managed to make quite a dent in the cash I’d lost the day before.

  Besides, keeping the shop open had given me a sense of control over my life that I’d been sorely missing since Belle had dropped the entire complex into my lap.

  Still, I hated the prospect of facing a full day without Eve there to bail me out if I needed it. I managed to buy some time with a few customers until Eve’s return, if she came back at all, but I handled more problems than I had any reason to expect during the course of the day.

  Drifting off to sleep that night with a candlemaking book tented across my chest, I couldn’t help wondering if what had happened to Belle was related to Eve’s reaction to the locker room break-in upstairs.

  If she came in to work tomorrow, I promised myself, I’d ask her about it.

  Chapter 9

  Eve didn’t say a word the next morning until she opened the cash register and looked at the tape from the previous day’s report. I’d been tiptoeing around her from the moment she’d walked in, dying t
o ask what had set her off the day before but afraid to lose her for another day, or worse yet, for good.

  She studied the register tape for a minute, then finally said, “You opened yesterday after all?”

  I said, “I was here anyway, and besides, I figured if I got too far in over my head, you could bail me out today. I did okay.”

  She took that in, studied the tape again, then said grudgingly, “You did better than okay. From these figures, I’d say you managed pretty well on your own, Harrison.”

  “I didn’t answer everybody’s questions, but a couple of folks promised to come back today to talk to you.”

  She looked as if she was going to cry, then mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

  “Pardon,” I said gently, “I missed that.”

  “I said I’m sorry I let you down,” Eve said forcibly. “I should have been here.”

  “Hey, you needed some time to yourself,” I said. “I could tell the break-in upset you.”

  “Harrison, I never would have done that to Belle, just abandoned her like that.”

  “It’s okay, believe me.” I glanced at the clock. “But I’ve got to tell you, I’m really glad you’re here today. I’ve got a ton of things going on, and I couldn’t manage without you.”

  Eve said, “That’s right, Mrs. Jorgenson is coming in for her first lesson today, isn’t she?”

  “Don’t forget, I’m meeting with our bookkeeper before that. I hate to walk out on you just before we open, but I’ve got to have this meeting with Ann Marie Hart if I’m ever going to figure out our accounting system.”

  Eve said, “You won’t be bailing out on me, that’s a part of store business.” She added with a grin, “Even if you were, that would make us even.”

  Two minutes after nine, a rail-thin blonde with a dizzying smile walked in, a stack of books and journals balanced under one arm and a thick briefcase dangling from the other. She needed a shopping cart for all the things she was carrying.

  “Hey Eve,” she said with a thick Tennessee accent that was uniquely its own. She plopped the books down on the counter and extended her hand to me. “You must be Harrison. Or would you prefer Mr. Black?”