by Tim Myers
“Sorry, I need to see Mr. Graybill.”
“He won’t be in for another half-hour. Would you like a table in the meantime?”
“No thanks, I’ll just wait at the counter.” I found a seat on one of the spinning stools and looked around. True to its name, The Ranch Restaurant sported all kinds of cowboy memorabilia, including lassos hung over the bar and a white counter dotted with cow spots. There was country music playing in the background, and I half- expected the waitresses to be wearing cowboy hats. They did all sport similar fringed vests and shiny boots, just like the hostess wore. I wondered what the waiters wore, but when I scanned the workers, the only men I saw were working back behind the grill. There was a signed photograph on the wall in front of me, and I wondered who would want the autograph of a rodeo clown.
An older blonde with a big smile filled up my coffee cup before I could refuse. “What can I get you?”
“This is fine,” I said.
“Just coffee? Okay then. If you want something else, let me know.” She moved on down the line and refilled a few more cups, each time pausing to look expectantly at me. It got to the point where I refused to make eye contact with her.
I’d been there ten minutes, nursing what was in my cup, when somebody slid onto the stool beside me.
“Roxie said you were looking for me.”
I swiveled on my seat and found a balding man wearing a shirt with metal collar tips, a bolo tie and the gaudiest cowboy boots I’d ever seen in my life. “Mr. Graybill?”
“You can call me Marty; everybody does,” he said as he stuck out his hand.
I took it, then said, “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thank you kindly, sir. Now what can I do for you?”
I took a sip of coffee, then said, “I’m here to talk to you about Gretel Barnett.”
Marty stiffened slightly beside me, then said, “Don’t know much about her. She was new in town. It’s a shame what happened to her.”
“That’s a pretty charitable attitude, considering that you must have been pretty upset with her.”
His “boy howdy” attitude was slipping quickly. “Why do you say that?”
“I’ve talked to Runion, I know all about the deal she blew for all of you.”
Marty suddenly didn’t seem all that friendly anymore. “We’re doing fine here. I’m not even sure I was going to sell myself. I’m happy running this restaurant.”
“That’s not what I heard. So where were you last Saturday?”
He looked at me like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “You’re asking me for an alibi? The way I hear it, you’re the one who shot her.”
I felt an icy chill. “So you know who I am.”
“Son, everybody in the county knows your mug after that spread they did on you in the newspaper.”
“The police know that I didn’t kill her,” I said, a statement that was more optimistic than I felt. “They’re looking for alternate suspects now.”
Marty said, “I’ll answer to them, but I won’t answer to you.”
It was time to nudge him a little. “So you do have something to hide.”
He got up, leaned over me and said, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was right here, just like every other Saturday since I’ve owned this place. It’s our busiest day, and no one gets off; not even me. I’ve got to go.”
After he’d disappeared, I waved the waitress over. She said, “Are you ready now, Sugar?”
“Just the check,” I said.
She scribbled out something on a pad, then slipped it to me. I left her a tip, a lot bigger than she merited, then took my bill to the register. The redhead was ringing someone up ahead of me, and when she got to me, I said, “Thanks for pointing Marty my way.”
“You’re welcome,” she said as she took my money.
“I heard you’all were selling the place,” I said as casually as I could manage it.
“He was going to, but the deal fell through. Marty hasn’t been the same since.” She lowered her voice and added, “I shouldn’t say anything, but we’re just squeaking by here. Marty always wanted to move out West, and he was afraid this was his last chance.”
I was about to ask something else when Marty suddenly reappeared. “Roxie, I need you in the office.”
“But Thelma’s on break. Somebody’s got to run the register.”
“Let Shelly do it. Now, Roxie.”
She handed me my change, then walked back to Marty. He didn’t say another word to me, but his glare was smoking as I left.
As I walked outside, I thought about how casual Marty had tried to play me, and how earnest he’d really been about selling out, according to Roxie. I hoped she didn’t get in trouble for leveling with me, but I was glad she’d been forthright. Marty Graybill could stand a little more scrutiny. Even though he claimed he’d been working all Saturday, it shouldn’t be all that hard to check. I’d have to leave that to Morton, though. He had the resources to follow up on alibis. All I could do was point the sheriff in the right direction. Morton and I were going to have to have a long talk soon. I had to come up with some way to share what I’d learned without stepping on his toes. It was going to have to be a delicate dance, but I’d done it before.
I had some time on my hands before I had to get to the candleshop for my shift, so I walked down the block toward Flickering Lights. I wanted to see if Jubal had been able to track down Gretel’s brother. As I walked down the street, I saw for rent signs in three of the buildings along the way. These were most likely Mrs. Jorgenson’s properties and the Minnesota investor. At least Marty Graybill was generating income from his restaurant. The two of them were losing money every day their buildings stood empty. I still couldn’t see Mrs. Jorgenson as a killer, and I promised myself I’d make another stab at patching things up with her. Maybe after I spoke with Jubal, I’d drive back out to her place and try to get an audience.
Jubal was alone in his shop, a sign I hoped meant that my customers were starting to come back to me. “Harrison, good of you to come by. Is your candleshop closed this morning?”
“No, I’ve got an assistant running it when I’m not there.”
He sighed. “It’s an incredible amount of work, operating a shop by yourself, isn’t it? It’s no wonder Gretel invited me down here to work with her. Frankly, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the place open.”
“What about Hans? Has anyone heard from him?”
“The attorney tells me he’s doing everything in his power to locate him, but to be honest with you, I don’t know how much luck he’s going to have. Hans never was my favorite. I’d walk through fire for Gretel, but her brother is a different story entirely. Greed ruled him.”
“Do me a favor, Jubal. If you do hear from him, would you let me know?”
“More idle speculation, Harrison? I was under the impression that things were quieting down.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
He picked up a copy of The Gunpowder Gazette. “It’s more what they’re not saying than what they’re printing. You haven’t been mentioned in days.”
“I suppose that’s something to be thankful for, anyway.” I glanced at my watch and realized that if I was going to have time to drive out to Mrs. Jorgenson’s before my shift started, I’d have to get going.
As I headed for the door, I said, “Remember, call me if you hear from him.”
Jubal nodded and I left him to his candleshop.
Mrs. Jorgenson’s car was nowhere in sight when I pulled up in front of her house, though she had a huge garage that was a completely separate building. I walked over and tried to peek inside, but the tinting was so dark I couldn’t see a thing. Her butler must have noticed my arrival, because he opened the door before I’d even had the chance to knock.
“I’m afraid Mrs. Jorgenson is still unavailable.”
“Come on, I just want a few words with her.”
“So sorry,” he said, then closed the d
oor on me.
So much for the direct approach. I had no doubt she was in there somewhere, but if I was going to make amends, I was going to have to find another way to do it than face to face.
I drove back to At Wick’s End wondering how I was going to manage that. By the time I got back, I was no closer to an answer than I’d been before. I went upstairs to my apartment and made a quick sandwich, then headed down to the candleshop for my shift.
Eve met me at the door, breathless. “Harrison Black, where have you been?”
“I’m not due to come in until noon. Didn’t you look at the schedule?”
She said, “I know that, but it was an awful time to be away from the shop.”
“Oh no. What did I miss?” It seemed like the few times I left the shop to Eve, something happened that needed my attention. I wasn’t about to stay there around the clock, though. Soon after I’d taken over all of River’s Edge, I’d learned my time away from the place was important for me to maintain my sanity. I could well sympathize with Jubal’s fatigue at working every hour his shop was open.
Eve said, “Mrs. Jorgenson came by an hour ago. She was quite upset that she’d missed you.”
“I was at her place trying to get past her butler. Did she say what she wanted?”
Eve shook her head. “No, all she would say was that she’d talk to you some other time.”
“How did she act?” I asked.
“Harrison, you know it’s impossible to tell that woman’s mood from her expression or behavior. She’s always so stone-faced it’s a wonder she doesn’t freeze like that.”
I’d seen a few cracks in that facade since I’d started teaching her candlemaking, but even I had to admit they were rare in their appearances.
She studied me a moment, then asked, “So what are you going to do?”
“Eve, there’s nothing I can do. I’ve tried to get past her butler, but he won’t budge. She knows where I am. I apologized, I even gave her that basket you made up, though she tried to get the butler to give it back to me. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Harrison Black, you’re as stubborn as she is.”
I grinned, “Yeah, but I’m not as stubborn as Belle was. Give me time, though. I’m working on it.”
Eve snorted loudly, then said, “I’m going to lunch.”
While she was gone, the foot traffic in the candleshop picked up considerably. By the time she got back, I was in a deep discussion with a woman about incising candles with dimensional designs and overdipping. The woman purchased a set of carving knives and some different wax tints, and after she was gone, Eve said, “My, you’ve come a long way, Harrison. I didn’t know you’d learned to incise candles.”
I showed her a round white candle I’d overdipped in red wax, then scribed feathery crystals into the surface. “I made this last week.” It had actually been much easier to create the effect than it appeared. I had always enjoyed drawing, and etching the surface of the red wax to expose the white beneath it was the same technique as drawing, just in a different medium.
Eve took the sample from me, studied it in the light, then said, “You may have gone a little deep here.” She pointed to a slight gouge. “And you should have brushed this wax away after you scribed it,” she added as she pointed out an errant hint of white.
Before I could reply, she said, “Otherwise, it’s a perfect job.”
“Thanks,” I said, happy to get any compliment on my candlemaking from her, even if it was a backhanded one. We worked together until five, then Eve prepared to go home. I was staying open until seven that evening, and while I didn’t particularly care to work the shop alone, getting a morning off now and then more than made up for the inconvenience.
Ten minutes after she was gone, Sheriff Morton walked in, and from the sour expression on his face, I knew he wasn’t there to make a social call.
“Where’s Pearly?” he said without salutation.
“Still in the mountains,” I said. “And how are you today, Sheriff?”
“Save it, Harrison, I’m not in the mood for your glib comments. I need to find your handyman.”
“Like I told you before, he’s away on vacation. What’s the sense of urgency?”
Morton frowned. “The headline from The Gunpowder Gazette tomorrow is going to name Pearly as my chief suspect. It’s going to be kind of embarrassing if I don’t know where he is, now isn’t it?”
“Is the Gazette running the sheriff’s office now?”
Morton got up in my face and said hotly, “You might want to watch yourself.”
I took a step back. “Sorry, that was out of line. Who told them Pearly was even on your list?”
“You’re not the only one digging into this besides me. Don’t even try to look shocked or outraged; I’ve heard what you’ve been doing around town.”
“Sheriff, can you really blame me? I’ve been trying to clear my name.”
“I never named you a suspect,” Morton said.
“You didn’t have to. The newspaper did that without your help. What did they find out?”
“Somebody leaked Gretel’s bequest to Pearly. That, added to the fact that they’d just broken up and Pearly was spotted at the fair, makes for a pretty solid case.”
“Surely you don’t believe it,” I said.
“Love and greed can be a pretty powerful combination,” Morton said. “I need to talk to him, Harrison.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know where he is. Believe me or don’t, but it’s the truth.”
Morton frowned at me again, then slammed the door to the candleshop on his way out. There hadn’t been anything I could do to protect Pearly. Even if I’d known where he was, I wouldn’t have told the sheriff, though. I would have warned my handyman to stay out of town as long as he could. I knew firsthand what the scrutiny of an article in the Gazette could bring, and I didn’t envy him the experience.
Millie walked in and said, “Thank goodness, you’re still here.”
“Why would you think otherwise?”
She said, “I saw the sheriff drive up, but I was with a customer when he left. I just thought...you know, that something might have happened.”
“No, he didn’t arrest me, but he probably wanted to. He’s after Pearly, though. There’s going to be an article in tomorrow’s paper about him, and the sheriff wants to find him first.”
“Poor Pearly,” she said.
“I made the mistake of saying the newspaper was running the sheriff’s department. I thought he was going to arrest me on the spot.”
Millie said, “You probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know, but who knew he’d be so touchy?”
“During the last election, there were complaints that Morton received too much press, and that Coburn was barely mentioned at all, even though he was the incumbent. The sheriff’s been kind of touchy since then.”
“Wonderful. I seem to always manage to say exactly the wrong thing.”
“You couldn’t know, Harrison. So what are we going to do about Pearly?” She picked up the candle I’d shown Eve and spun it in her hands.
“We can hope he stays away until this blows over,” I said.
“We’ve got to do more than that. Harrison, you need to get to the bottom of this. You’re good at puzzles. You should look into this.”
“I’ve been so busy trying to clear my own name, I haven’t had time to think about Pearly.”
Millie said, “Well, you’d better start. We can’t lose him, Harrison; he’s the glue that holds this place together.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said.
She studied the candle a moment more, then put it back on the display table. “That’s a lovely candle. Was it one of Belle’s?”
“I made it myself,” I admitted.
“My, you’re getting quite good at it.”
I picked the candle up and handed it to her.
She said, “What’s this?”
“Accept it as a t
oken of my friendship and appreciation,” I said.
“Oh, Harrison, I can’t do that. You sell these.”
“And you sell your muffins, Pan Dowdies and everything else you let me sample. Come on, Millie, it would mean a lot to me.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Harrison. I’ll display it on my counter, and tell everyone where I got it.”
I laughed. “Hey, I wasn’t looking for free advertising.”
“Just consider it a bonus, then.”
After she was gone, I worked until closing selling a few supplies but barely making enough to pay the electric bill. At least there was enough to deposit, something I wouldn’t have bet on a few days earlier. I made out the slip, locked the candleshop and drove into town to get the money into the bank’s night deposit. While I was in town, I decided to swing by Erin’s on the off chance she was in. Unfortunately, the lights were off at her rental place, and though we’d been building something, a friendship or a budding relationship or what I wasn’t sure, I wasn’t ready to just show up on her doorstep.
There was someone I could visit unannounced, though.
When I pulled into Wayne’s driveway, I was happy to see his car parked there. With his new girlfriend, he hadn’t had much time for me, but it looked like I was in luck.
I had to ring the doorbell twice before he answered.
“Hey, what’s up? Did we have something planned tonight?” he asked.
“No, I just thought I’d drop in and grace you with my presence. Come on, there’s got to be some kind of game somewhere on television. Let’s watch it.”
In the background, I heard a woman’s voice calling out, “Wayne? Who is it?”
I started to back away. “Sorry, I should have called first.”
“No, it’s all right,” he said. “Come on in. You really should meet Nichole.”
“Another time,” I said as I headed back to my truck.
“Sorry,” he called out.
“Not a problem.”
Of course I should have realized he’d be with his new girlfriend. I drove back to River’s Edge and decided to find that game on television myself. That all changed suddenly, though. As I drove up to the complex, I saw a light burning in one of the windows that had no business being on.