A Flicker of Doubt (Book 4 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  “Don’t start,” I said. “He’s just doing his job.”

  Markum held his palms up. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t push you right now. Listen, do you want to get out of Micah’s Ridge? It’s a beautiful day. We could drive up to Boone, cruise around on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then have lunch.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I want to work. The truth is, I need to keep busy. It’s the only thing that’s going to help right now.”

  He nodded. “Say no more. Why don’t I hang around though, just in case you change your mind? There’s plenty of stuff I can do up in my office, and that way I’ll be close by.”

  “Markum, I don’t need a baby-sitter. I’ll be okay.”

  He said, “Of course you will.” As the big, burly man stood, he added, “Just in case, remember, I’ll be upstairs in my office if you need me.”

  “Listen, I shouldn’t have yelled at you before. It’s just—”

  He interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m just sorry you had to be the one to find her.”

  “Me, too,” I said, “Hang on a second; I’ll walk out with you.”

  Before I left, I walked behind the counter and hugged Millie, maybe a little harder than I needed to. “Thank you.”

  She smiled when I pulled away. “You’re most welcome. If you need me, I’m right here.”

  “I know that, and I appreciate it, honestly I do.”

  Markum and I walked outside, and I saw that the kayak was still perched on the lowest step near the water.

  He followed my gaze and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that for you.”

  “Don’t bother. I can’t see myself ever using it again.”

  He said, “You never know.”

  Pearly Gray, the handyman to all of River’s Edge, joined us and said, “What happened? I was just getting out of my barber’s chair when I heard there was some excitement out here.”

  I started to explain when Markum said, “Pearly, if you’ll help me carry the kayak up, I’ll fill you in.” The kayak had handles on both ends for easy portage, but I normally just threw it over one shoulder. Markum was a lot stronger than I was, but I realized he was deflecting attention away from me by enlisting Pearly’s aid, and I appreciated it

  Pearly nodded to Markum after catching the expression on my face. He had a full head of white hair that was nearly luminescent and an IQ that was off the charts. Pearly had been a psychologist in an earlier life, but he’d come to River’s Edge to work with his hands a few years before I’d inherited the place.

  I said, ‘Thanks guys, I appreciate the help.”

  “It’s our pleasure, Harrison,” Pearly said.

  I left them with the kayak and walked to At Wick’s End. Maybe it was a good thing that Eve Pleasants—my lone employee and candlemaking mentor—wasn’t scheduled to come in until noon. I was glad for the respite, and for the first time since I’d taken over the candle- shop, I found myself hoping that no customers came in. It was a shock realizing that Becka was really dead, compounded astronomically by being the one who had found her body. Becka’s sister had died a few months earlier in a car accident and I had helped her get over her grief. Suzanne had been her last close relative, and now I had no one from her immediate family to share my own grief with. I needed some time to come to grips with what had happened, but I couldn’t think of a better place to do that than inside my candleshop.

  I was there twenty minutes when Eve joined me. Her normally dour expression had been replaced by one of genuine concern. “Harrison, I came as soon as I heard.”

  “You’re not scheduled to work until noon,” I said. “Let me guess. Millie called you.”

  “She was worried about you,” Eve said.

  “She shouldn’t be,” I said, “And neither should you. Go,” I insisted.

  “Harrison, I’m already here. What sense does it make for me to leave and just have to come back in three hours.”

  I shrugged. “Go shopping, go back to bed, I don’t care. Eve, thanks for coming in, but I’m going to be okay.”

  She took it better than I had any right to expect. As she started putting her coat back on, she said, “You’re sure about this?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Millie that you tried.”

  She was shaking her head as she left, but I was glad she hadn’t put up a fight Eve still knew more about candle- making than I did, but I was starting to catch up, and after all, it was my name on the mortgage now, and she knew it

  I was waiting on my second customer of the day when the telephone rang.

  It was Morton, and he had news for me about what had ended Becka Lane’s life.

  Chapter 2

  “Well, she didn’t drown,” the sheriff said. ‘To be honest with you, I think it kind of surprised the coroner, finding her in the water like that.”

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “It was sleeping pills,” he said gravely. “She must have taken a ton of them. I’m sorry, Harrison, but it looks like she killed herself.”

  “What? That can’t be right. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Morton said, “Harrison, I just talked to the man myself. He put a rush on the job. I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it”

  “But she hated taking any kind of pill at all. I refuse to believe Becka would do anything like that. I’m not saying she would never try to kill herself, but there’s no way on earth I could ever believe she’d do it with pills.”

  He paused, then said, “Harrison, it’s been a while since the two of you went out. People change, you know?”

  “Not like that, they don’t,” I said fiercely. “I remember when she broke her arm six months ago. She wouldn’t even take a whole pill to help her sleep, and she was in some serious pain.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “People change. She must have had some problems you didn’t know about.” His voice softened as he added, “More folks end their own lives than anybody could imagine. Not every car accident is an accident, if you know what I mean. I’ve seen more than one crime scene on the road that didn’t leave skid marks from braking.”

  “So you’re not going to pursue this?”

  He snorted. “What is there to pursue? F6r whatever reason, Becka Lane decided she couldn’t take it anymore, and so she decided to check out”

  “And she just happened to fall into the river after overdosing, is that what you’re saying?”

  Morton said, “I admit that’s odd, but the woman wasn’t in her right mind. What are you expecting, rational behavior from someone who’d probably already decided to kill herself? She could have gone to the overlook to do it A lot of folks go there. Who knows what she was thinking in her last few hours?”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said flatly.

  “Harrison Black, don’t go stirring up trouble where there isn’t any, do you understand me? I know you’re upset, and I can imagine it’s hard to believe that somebody you once cared about would kill herself, but you’ve got to accept the fact that it’s over and there’s nothing you can do about it now.”

  I hung up without even bothering to say good-bye. There was no way Becka would loll herself. She thought too highly of her divine right to exist. And even if she did want to end it all, there’s no way she’d ever do it with pills. But it was clear that the sheriff was going to blindly accept the premise that she’d overdosed intentionally and killed herself. That didn’t mean I had to, though.

  I owed it to Becka to find out what had really happened.

  I was still I trying to figure out my next step when Greg Runion—Micah Ridge’s gung ho land developer— walked into the candleshop.

  “Harrison, I need to talk to you.”

  “This isn’t a great time.” Runion and I had crossed paths before, and I’d felt an immediate dislike for the man from the first time we’d met that had only grown stronger with time. I didn’t have a problem with most real estate developers
. After all, somebody had to build the places we all worked and lived in. But Runion had a slash-and-bum mentality, and I didn’t like it in the least.

  “I won’t take up much of your time,” he said, either missing my intonation or choosing to ignore it

  “What is it you want?” I asked.

  “Since my latest downtown project was so successful, I’m putting a package together out here by the river. We could squeeze thirty condos and apartments into this building alone. I understand this place is tied up legally, but if you want to fight it, I’m willing to put my lawyers on the job I’ll make you a rich man, Harrison.”

  My great aunt Belle had given me the deed to River’s Edge with the stipulation that I run the candleshop for five years, and though I knew I could probably break the

  Codicil if I had to, I would have rather defaulted on the bank loan than go against her last wishes.

  “I told you before, I’m not interested.”

  “You can’t stand in the way of progress, Harrison. I’m coming out here, one way or another.” He gestured out the window of my shop. “It would be a shame to lose all these trees around you, wouldn’t it? Think about that.”

  “What are you talking about? Cyrus Walters and his sister aren’t selling.” Cyrus and Ruth owned a great deal of the land that abutted River’s Edge, though they’d never done anything to develop it Instead, Cyrus had cut a path for strolling in the undergrowth that ran along the river, one I walked nearly every day.

  “You obviously haven’t talked to them lately.” The expression on his face made my stomach knot up. “If you change your mind, call me, but don’t wait too long.”

  He breezed out of the shop and I felt my heart sicken. Was it possible that Cyrus was actually thinking about selling his land?

  When the complex had been a warehouse factory in its first incarnation, Cyrus’s father had bought up all of the surrounding land for expansion. When the factory failed, he was busy dying himself. The land went to Cyrus and his sister, and while Cyrus had stayed in Micah’s Ridge his entire life, Ruth had moved to West Virginia to be closer to her grandchildren.

  I walked out onto the walkway in front of River’s Edge and looked at the trees that bracketed us. It would be horrible to lose them, especially to a massive block of apartments and condominiums. The construction noise and debris alone would make my life miserable, not even considering what would happen when all those people moved in right on top of me. The nearby location of so many new residents would probably help some of my tenants, but I wasn’t sure how many of the Yuppies, Dinks and local social climbers would be interested in candlemaking.

  I called Cyrus to see if Runion was just bluffing, but there was no answer at his home. In fact, his answering machine wasn’t even connected. The phone rang for a solid four minutes before I finally gave up. I’d have to talk to him before Runion could persuade him and his sister to sell. I knew he hadn’t yet, or Runion wouldn’t have wasted his time with me.

  Eve came back to the candleshop an hour before she was supposed to start work, but I didn’t push it I knew she meant well.

  “Harrison, I can work this shift by myself if you want to go upstairs.”

  “I appreciate it Eve. I think you all are right. What I really need to do is to get out of here for a while. Are you sure you don’t mind watching the place by yourself?”

  “Just be back before closing. I’d rather not take the deposit to the bank if I don’t have to”

  ‘I’ll be back in plenty of time to handle that” I said. I walked upstairs, but skipped my apartment and headed to Markum’s office. He was just locking up as I approached.

  “Going somewhere?” I asked.

  “I thought I’d grab some lunch. Did you shut the candleshop down after all?”

  “No, Eve’s handling things. Millie called her, and she came in early.” I took a deep breath, then added, “I heard from Morton.”

  Markum’s eyebrows shot up. “What did he have to ‘ say?”

  “He told me what the coroner found. Becka didn’t drown; she overdosed on sleeping pills.”

  Markum frowned. “Then how did she end up in the river?”

  “The sheriff believes that she went to the overlook to think things through before she took the overdose, but it’s wrong. Becka hated taking pills. There’s no way she would have killed herself that way, even if she was despondent.”

  Markum asked softly, “And if she was, I’m willing to bet you’re wondering why she didn’t call you before she did anything, aren’t you?”

  ‘That’s not the point I’m telling you, Becka hated pills.”

  “So you’re going to look into tins yourself,” Markum said.

  “I’ve got to. What choice do I have?”

  Gary Cragg, an attorney with his office close to Markum’s, poked his head out his door. “Do you two mind? I’m trying to work.”

  “Sorry,” I said, “We’ll keep it down.”

  “Better yet, we’ll take it outside,” Markum said.

  That seemed to mollify the attorney. As we walked down the hallway, I told Markum, “I thought you might like to help me do some digging, but I guess I was wrong.”

  He put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Now what in the world gave you that impression? Let’s go”

  “But you don’t agree with me.”

  Markum said, “You knew her better than I did. I learned a long time ago to trust my gut, Harrison. If it feels wrong to you, the least we can do is look into it”

  “What makes you trust my gut?”

  He laughed. “You’re all we’ve got right now.”

  We walked downstairs and I said, “Do you want to grab some lunch at Millie’s before we go?”

  He said, “Do you really want to subject yourself to Twenty Questions? I know she means well, but Millie won’t let up until she finds out what we’re up to.”

  “You’re right. So where should we eat?”

  As we walked to the back alley where my two trucks were parked—one bought and one inherited—he said, “If you trust me, I’ve got just the place.”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  As I drove us in Belle’s Ford to Markum’s restaurant choice, I told him about Runion’s visit.

  “One tiling’s for sure. He’s not bluffing,” Markum said. “I’d believe that guy was capable of doing anything. There’s no doubt in mind that he’d sell his grandmother’s burial plot if he could make a buck doing it”

  “But what can we do about it? I tried calling Cyrus, but he didn’t answer his telephone.”

  Markum said, ‘I don’t know the man. Do you feel comfortable visiting him at his home?”

  “Sure, I’ve been to his place a few times. He’s pretty much a recluse, but he’ll talk to me.”

  Markum nodded. “Okay then. First we eat, then we talk to your friend. After that we start digging into Becka’s life.”

  “It sounds like a plan to me.”

  Markum directed me to-a place that was not much more than a shack on the outskirts of Micah’s Ridge.

  There were two dozen cars parked in front, pulled up on the grass, since there was no parking at all. There wasn’t even a sign, though I saw a faded red T-shirt hanging from a nearby tree.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Grover Blake, the smartest man I’ve ever met, lives here. He sells barbeque out of his backyard.”

  I got out of the truck reluctantly, following Markum’s lead. “Is it legal?”

  He laughed. “Harrison, look at these cars. This one belongs to the mayor,” he said, pointing to a shiny new BMW. It was from the mayor’s car lot. I knew he didn’t make enough serving the town to afford to own it on his meager salary. “You think he’s going to shut Grover down? Come on.”

  I followed him to a string of picnic tables and saw some of the most influential people in Micah’s Ridge eating barbeque sandwiches and drinking Cokes out of glass bottles. Markum pointed to the lone empty table and said, ‘Take a
seat I’ll be right back.”

  I tried not to stare at the people around me, but it fascinated me to know that this outdoor restaurant existed not eleven miles from my apartment and I’d never heard the slightest whisper about it Markum came back with two big sandwiches wrapped in brown butcher paper in one hand and a pair of Cokes in the other, along with a thick stack of napkins.

  I took the drink from him and said, “What if I don’t like Coke?”

  “Well, Grover’s got a spigot at the side of the house.”

  “Coke’s great,” I said. The smell from the sandwich was amazing. “What’s in this?”

  “Just barbeque on a buttered bun. No pickles, no slaw, no sauce.”

  “It sounds kind of plain,” I said.

  Markum said, “Keep your voice down, Grover might hear you. Take a bite, then tell me what you think.”

  I took a bite, then another and another. Before I realized it, my entire sandwich was gone. Markum was grinning at me between bites. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Come on, it’s better than good. How does he do it?”

  “He swears it’s because he recites Emily Dickenson to the pork as it is cooking. Who’s to say he’s wrong?”

  I started to stand. “I’ve got to have another one. I’m buying this time.”

  Markum said, “Sit back down, Harrison. It’s one per customer, no exceptions. Grover wants to make sure there’s enough for everybody.”

  I found myself wishing I’d taken a .little more time with my first sandwich, then I looked around and saw that several of the people eating were lingering over their food like they were participating in some kind of ritual. “When can I come back?”

  “You can’t, at least not without me.” Markum finished his sandwich, then said, “Maybe there’s something I can do about that, though. Wait right here.”

  I saw him approach a wizened old man the color of wet ashes. The two of them talked a few minutes, then Markum nodded toward me and waved. I joined them and noticed that somehow we’d managed to attract the attention of most folks there.

  Markum said formally, “Harrison, this is Grover. Grover; this is my friend Harrison Black.”