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

by Tim Myers

  “Certainly. The more the merrier.”

  The one who had acquiesced said, “This is her birthday, and she wanted to make candles.”

  I said, “My most hearty congratulations, ma’am. Happy birthday.”

  “It certainly has been so far,” she said with a twinkle of light in her eyes.

  I led them back to the benches, and Eve took over with the practiced ease of someone who had taught the class dozens of times before. It was amazing watching her work with each of the ladies, making them feel special as we all created our own candles. I learned a great deal watching her, and not just about working with wax. Eve called each woman by her correct name from the beginning, an ability I was going to have to cultivate. I was horrible with names, forgetting them at the most embarrassing moments.

  We were nearing the time to pour when Eve held up one of the baskets of shells and polished stones. “These make quite a nice accent when they are floated in your candle. You can also use chunks of colored waxes,” she said as she pointed them out. “You can even use ice. They all make lovely candles.” Eve passed around a series of poured candles she’d already made to the women, and I collected them as they finished studying the varied effects. I’d seen candles with things embedded in them before, but honestly, I’d never thought about how they’d gotten there.

  Eve asked, “Harrison, would you get the ice please?”

  I went back to the office and opened the tiny freezer of our small refrigerator, removing enough cubes of ice to make a small pitcher of tea.

  After we prepared our candle molds and individually melted waxes with all the scents and colors we wanted, it was time to pour. I half-expected Eve to just cut everyone loose, but she insisted on one pour at a time. “Remember, this wax is approaching two hundred degrees. It will burn you if it touches your skin, so be careful.” This sobered the ladies somewhat, and it nearly scared the little girl to death.

  Eve must have seen the fright in her eyes. “Kathy, would you like to go first? Don’t worry, I’ll be right beside you. You’ll do fine.”

  The little girl looked unsure, and her mother was about to intervene when Eve added, “In fact, why don’t I help you pour? There’s a knack to getting it just right.”

  “That would be great,” the little girl said, obviously relieved to have the burden lifted from her.

  Eve picked the pitcher up with an oven mitt on her hand, had Kathy put one on herself, then wiped off the accumulated moisture from the side of the pitcher before the two of them managed to get nearly all of the wax into the mold.

  The older women applauded the effort, and I clapped right along beside them as the task was completed.

  “Now who wants to go next?” Eve said.

  When it was finally my turn, I put a single shell into the bottom of the mold, along with one stone. Eve said, “Harrison, your items are going to be swallowed up by the wax this way. Unless you’re trying to hide them, you need to add more, and space them around the perimeter of the candle so they’ll show through.”

  Kathy chuckled softly at the gentle scolding and I shared a wink and a smile with her as I put more baubles into the bottom of the mold and arranged them in a better order.

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  “Excellent.” She glanced into my brightly blue-toned wax and said, “We can dilute that somewhat with more wax. It’s rather strong.”

  “I wanted something bold,” I said.

  “It’s your candle,” she said, so I made my pour.

  “Now what happens?” Kathy’s mother asked. “Can we take them with us tonight?”

  “Harrison and I still need to add a little more to each after the wax settles, then they need a day to cool completely. If someone wishes to come by at closing tomorrow! they will be ready. Thanks again for coming, and Happy Birthday.”

  “That was absolutely delightful,” the matriarch said “Now Kathy,” she said, taking her great-granddaughter’s hand, “why don’t we go back home and have a touch more cake.”

  “Mother, you’re spoiling her,” Kathy’s mother said.

  “That’s my job.”

  “And how well you do it. You two will have to share piece, and it’s going to have to be a little one at that. Kathy you’ve already had too much as it is.”

  The two eldest ladies winked at each other, and I had sneaky suspicion Kathy was going to be getting a double serving, whether Mom knew about it or not. As I locked up after them, it made me realize just how alone I was in the world. Here was a family of four generations, getting along like the best of friends, while I was the last twig of the last branch of my family tree.

  It made me miss Belle even more.

  After Eve and I topped off the candles with the reheated wax, it was time to close the place up for the night.

  “So I’ll see you in the morning?” I asked as we walked out of the store.

  “Bright and early. Sorry for the confusion today, Harrison, I really did think you knew.”

  “Not a problem. I appreciate the lesson tonight. It was great fun.”

  “I had good students,” she said. “Besides, I assumed you could use the practice before Mrs. Jorgenson comes; back in.”

  “If we pour candles then,” I said. “Who knows what she’ll decide come Monday.”

  “I doubt she’ll be content to keep rolling candles, not when there are so many other techniques in candlemaking. She wants to learn it all, so you’ll need to be ready for her. That makes her the perfect student in my mind.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that she’s able to pay our fees either, does it?”

  “As you said, we do have to make a profit,” Eve replied, a statement I heartily endorsed.

  I never could have imagined how much companionship Esmeralda offered during her brief stay with me until she was gone. Belle’s apartment was lonelier than it had ever been without the weight of Esme on my lap as I read. Even Dame Agatha had trouble holding my attention, and I knew the problem lay with the reader, not the author.

  I finally put the book down and decided what I needed was something to take my mind off Esmeralda’s absence. When I’d been cleaning out Belle’s closet, I’d noticed a set of odd U-shaped iron bars embedded in the wall leading to a scuttle of some sort in the ceiling. Perhaps there was an attic up there. I’d been curious about it, but hadn’t had the time to do much exploring until now.

  I climbed the steps and found a dead bolt hidden within the top that secured the cover firmly. Not knowing if it would even open, I threw the bolt and pushed, expecting great resistance.

  The cover nearly flew out of my hands.

  Somebody had used the scuttle frequently enough to want to keep the hinges well-lubricated. I couldn’t imagine Belle climbing that iron ladder, but the old gal had fooled me more than once over the past week. Eve had told me about Belle’s recent fear of heights, but I knew firsthand that she hadn’t always felt that way. She’d been a fixture in every tree house I’d ever built, prodding my imagination with stories of pirate ships and great castles as we swayed high above the ground.

  When I looked up, I found myself staring at the clouds of the evening sky. I wasn’t about to go traipsing around on the roof without some kind of light to guide me, but my curiosity wouldn’t allow me to wait till morning to check ill out. There wasn’t a flashlight anywhere in sight, but I did see Belle’s candle on the table and the matches beside it. I grabbed those, then climbed up awkwardly with my added burden.

  It was amazing, standing up on that roof as the night crept in. Micah’s Ridge was laid out below me in the distance as twilight came. There was something about the darkness that enhanced the town’s beauty, hiding the bad and highlighting the good until the last whispers of light finally faded away.

  Belle had a lawn chair set up under an umbrella stand anchored beside it. The umbrella was chained to the stand, lying on the roof next to it. I couldn’t imagine Belle up there, but who else would even know about the scuttle that ran through her c
loset, unless there was another opening somewhere else on the roof. I lit the candle, watched the flame flicker then take hold as I cupped one hand around the wick to block the breeze that was still kicking around. It was amazing how much illumination the candle put out, or perhaps my eyes were growing used to the reduced light. I walked all over the roof with great confidence, being careful to stay away from the edge.

  There was no other access to the roof, at least none that I could see. So Belle had found a private hideaway she hadn’t had to share with anyone else in the world. I decided to continue the tradition. It could surely come in handy, having a place to go where no one else could find me.

  I was ready to go back inside when I heard a clattering on the ground below in back of River’s Edge. It was the unmistakable sound of steel hitting pavement, and I couldn’t help but wonder who was out this late, and what they were up to. I crept carefully to the edge and was startled to see a dark form fleeing from the direction of my old Dodge truck, the vehicle I’d virtually abandoned since getting Belle’s newer and nicer Ford.

  Why would someone try to steal my old truck when a newer, nicer one was six feet away from it? I wished I had a spotlight instead of the candle in my hand so I could see who was fleeing into the night. I had no doubt they couldn’t see me, even if they looked up. The lip on the roof was enough to shield all but the brightest light. I was still peering after the retreating figure when a gust of wind came up. I’d forgotten to shield the candle and found myself blind in the sudden absence of light. One wrong step and I knew I could plummet to the ground below.

  Chapter 14

  I groped in my pockets for the matches, but they must have fallen out sometime during my exploration of the roof. Now what was I going to do?

  I really had no choice. I forced myself to stand there in the shivering darkness until I got my night vision, at least enough to get safely back to the scuttle. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, the breeze grew stronger and; stronger, and I felt the gusts tugging at me, pushing me with whispering fingers toward the edge.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I could make out shapes and definitions on the roof around me. I turned and walked slowly back toward the opening, and when I got close enough, I could make out the raised edges of the scuttle. I’d closed the hatch when I’d exited, and I was relieved when it opened easily at my touch.

  I hurried down the steps and rushed downstairs, but whoever had been there was now long gone.

  But why would anyone want something with my old truck? I was going to have to wait until morning before I could answer that question. There was not a thing in the world I could do about it until then.

  I called my mechanic and friend Wayne Darrell the first thing the next morning. “Hey, buddy, I need a favor.”

  “You and everybody else. When are we going to play tennis again? I’m beginning to forget which end of the racket to hold.”

  “No time soon. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my great-aunt died.”

  Wayne’s teasing ended abruptly. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, she didn’t want a service or anything, but I’ve taken over her store. It’s a candle shop,” I said, waiting for a jab.

  Wayne said, “Sounds good. It’s got to be better than selling those junk computers. So what’s up?”

  “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but I was up on the roof last night and I saw somebody messing with the Dodge.”

  Wayne laughed at that. “You mean they were trying to steal it? You could leave that thing running in front of a convenience store at midnight and nobody would take it. It’s a wreck. Wait a second. What were you doing up on a roof at night? You feeling okay, buddy? You haven’t been depressed lately, have you?”

  “I wasn’t going to jump, you nitwit, I was checking out the stars.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d been satisfying my curiosity, not being able to wait until morning light.

  Wayne said, “It was overcast last night. You were snooping, weren’t you?”

  “I was exploring,” I admitted. “That’s entirely different.”

  Wayne said, “Okay, okay, you were exploring. When you say someone was messing with your truck, what exactly do you mean? Were they trying to get in the door?”

  “I heard steel hitting the pavement, like some kind of heavy tool was dropped. I don’t know, I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.”

  Wayne said abruptly, “Don’t do anything till I get there. Don’t even go near it, okay?”

  “What do you think, somebody put a bomb under it?”

  Wayne ignored my question and asked, “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into where you’re worried about bombs? Come clean, Harrison.”

  I tried to laugh it off. “You know what? Forget about it. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

  “Hey, don’t hang up,” he said. “Tell me where you’re at. I want to check it out before you go near it.”

  “I’m at a place called River’s Edge. Do you know where it is?”

  “Are you kidding me, I’m a huge fan of Millie’s pumpkin doughnuts at The Crocked Pot. I remember seeing a candle shop over there too. Is that where you’re at?”

  “The name of the shop is At Wick’s End.”

  “No, that doesn’t sound right.”

  I said, “Believe me, that’s the name. I’ve been working there every day for over a week.”

  He said, “Okay, okay. Listen, I want you to do what I ask, all joking aside. Go stand near your truck and wait for me, but don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe on it, Harrison, promise?”

  “I think you’re crazier than I am, but I won’t do anything until you get here.”

  After we hung up, there was nothing I could do but go down by the truck and wait. Wayne showed up ten minutes later in his tow truck. As he got out, he studied the back of River’s Edge and said, “Nice place. Is it all yours, or just the candle shop?”

  It was pretty obvious he was kidding. “It’s all mine, down to the last brick.”

  Wayne studied me for a second, then said, “So your ship finally came in. Sorry it had to happen that way.”

  I said, “You want to know the truth? The bank owns it, I don’t. I’ve never been more in debt in my life.”

  Wayne said, “Welcome to my world.” He looked at the Dodge, started to flick off a piece of peeling paint and then changed his mind. “I can’t believe you’re still driving this thing.”

  I pointed to the Ford. “I’m not. My great-aunt left me that. But not everybody knows that. In fact, the guy who’s handling the will forgot to tell me about it.”

  “Okay, enough guessing about what’s really going on here. Let’s see what we’ve got.” Wayne got down on the ground and wiggled under the truck. He spent less than two minutes under it before he crawled back out again.

  I felt like an idiot. “Okay, I admit it. I’ve got an overactive imagination. Sorry to drag you over here like this for nothing.”

  There was no smile on Wayne’s face. “It’s a good thing you did. Somebody nicked your brake line, buddy. I’d say you’ve got yourself a real enemy after all.”

  So somebody really was after me. I suddenly realized that if I hadn’t been out on the roof last night, I never would have known about the sabotage. Granted I didn’t plan on driving the Dodge much, but the first time I did, I would have been in serious trouble.

  Wayne said, “You want me to call the cops?”

  “Yes. Maybe. No.”

  “Okay, you’ve given me a handful of possible answers. Now which one are we going with?”

  I said, “Keep this to yourself, okay? I don’t want to involve the police. They think I’m paranoid as it is.”

  “At least let me tow it in,” Wayne said. “I can have it fixed in an hour.”

  I grabbed his arm and said, “If whoever did this thinks their little plan is still going to work, they won’t try anything else, will they? Let’s leave it alone for n
ow.”

  “Harrison, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it doesn’t sound like it’s got many rules.”

  I said, “I think we’re making them up as we go along. Listen, I’ll buy you a beer when this is all over and let you know what happened.”

  “I’d rather have a can of tennis balls, with you on the other end of the court.”

  “I promise, just as soon as things slow down. Thanks again for coming out, Wayne.”

  He patted my shoulder. “Listen, if you need backup, day or night, call me, do you hear me?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  He got into his truck and drove away.

  And I was left knowing that someone, for whatever reason, was trying to get rid of me. Once and for all.

  I grabbed a quick breakfast back upstairs at the apartment, then headed to At Wick’s End.

  I had a call to make.

  Becka picked up on the third ring. “Hello,” she said groggily.

  “Sorry to wake you, but you asked me to call you.”

  The transformation was miraculous as she suddenly perked up. “Harrison. I was just about to get up. Thanks for calling.”

  “You’re welcome. Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by the candle shop sometime this morning. There’s something I’d really like to talk to you about.”

  “Really? Give me a hint. You know how I hate surprises.” Her voice had taken on a playful tone that for some reason I had once found endearing.

  “Sorry, you’re going to have to wait. Can you make it sometime before ten?”

  “Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”

  That would be perfect. Eve wasn’t scheduled to come in until twelve. “See you then.”

  After I hung up, I worked at straightening the shelves, putting items back in their original places. It was like a game of hide-and-seek with some of the customers, seeing just how far something could be abandoned away from its proper spot.

  Miracle of miracles; Becka was earlier than her promised hour. She must have been more eager than I thought. She had pulled out all the stops, opting for a short skirt that showed off her legs, spiked heels that looked impossible to walk in, and a hairstyle that resembled a lioness going in for the kill.