by Tim Myers
“Oh dear, I never thought it would come to that. I’d better talk to her.”
“Let me know what you find out, would you?”
“If I have any luck at all, I will. If you don’t hear from me, it’s not good news.”
Five minutes later the chime rang over the door and Sanora Gaston walked in with a tall glass of milk. This is from Millie. She said you’d understand.”
I took it from her and had a healthy swallow. “Thanks, that was great. Sorry you had to deliver it to me.”
“I didn’t mind. Harrison, I came by to see if you’d like to have lunch with me today.”
“I’d like to, but Eve just left, and there’s nobody to watch the shop till she gets back. How about a raincheck?”
“You’ve got it. I guess I’ll take Tick up on her invitation. She wants to welcome me back.”
“That’s sweet of her,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t think of it first.”
“There will be plenty of time. We’ll do it later.”
The rest of the day dragged through starts and sputters, never anything steady but accumulating to a healthy total as I started to run the day’s report off the register. Eve had been cryptic about her lunch after she’d returned, but I could tell something pleasant had happened while she’d been gone. She scooted out the door two minutes after I locked it, another sign that something was up. Eve was usually a stickler for our closing routine, but today she obviously had something else on her mind.
I was just walking out with the deposit when Erin walked up. “You’re closed? I got here as fast I as I could.”
‘Tell you what, let me open back up and I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
“I hate when people come right when I’m closing. Harrison, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But I’m offering,” I said as I opened the door and held it for her. “Come in and take the grand tour.”
She stepped inside and I locked the door behind her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t want anybody else wandering in. Not that I’m trying to get you alone. No, that didn’t sound right either. Would you feel more comfortable if I left it unlocked?”
Erin smiled at my stammering. “I think I’ll be safe enough with you. Besides, I’ve got some Mace in my pocket if you get out of line.”
“No, ma’am, you don’t have to worry about me.” I added, “Is there anything in particular you’d like to see, or would you like a quick overview of it all?”
“If you don’t have anything pressing, I’d love to see it all.”
“I’d be delighted. Why don’t we start up front with our displays so you can see the different types of candles we make, then we’ll take a stroll through the aisles.” I showed her some of the hand-dipped candles I’d made and just displayed, along with poured candles, some rolled ones from sheets of wax, gel candles, floating candles, and braided ones. She was particularly fascinated with a carved candle that looked as if it had been dipped in the world of fairies and sprites. “Wow, did you actually make this one?”
“That’s beyond my talent as of yet. My Great-Aunt Belle did. At Wick’s End was hers before I inherited it.”
“She was wonderful, wasn’t she?” Erin said, studying the piece.
“In more than just her candlemaking,” I said.
Erin nodded, then we walked through the shelves until we reached the classroom in back.
“Is this where you actually make them?”
“It is. We teach classes, too.” I picked up one of the braided candles I’d just made and handed it to her.
She asked, “Is this another one of Belle’s creations? It’s absolutely beautiful.”
I smiled. “That happens to be one of mine. I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it, but it looks a little complex for me. What’s the easiest way to start making candles?”
I led her to the shelves with packets of sheet wax and wicks, ready for rolling. “These are fun, easy, and they burn great. It’s a wonderful place to start.”
“I’ll take one.” She studied the packet, then said, “I was going to ask for a lesson, but this says the instructions are inside.”
I shrugged. “I’d be happy to supplement them, if you’re interested. Strictly teacher to student.”
She thought about it a second or two, then said, “Why don’t I try my hand at this myself and see how I do? What do I owe you?”
“I’ve got an idea,” I said as I took the packet from her and grabbed a bag. “Why don’t we barter? You come by for candle supplies, and I’ll grab a kayak now and then.”
“I’m all about bartering,” she said enthusiastically. “My hairdresser loves to canoe with her boyfriend, so we trade, too.”
I wrapped the braided candle she’d admired and slipped it into the bag as well.
She asked, “Hey, why did you do that? All I expected was the kit.”
“These are on the house. I can always make more.”
“Are you sure? That’s awfully generous of you.”
“I’m positive.”
She took the bag, then said, “Thank you, kind sir, I do appreciate that. I’ll burn it tonight.” She thought about it a second, then added, “That’s kind of tacky of me, isn’t it? You probably like them to be displayed, don’t you?”
“Candles are made for burning. I’ve got a friend who bakes, and she’d be insulted if you didn’t actually eat her creations.”
Erin nodded, then lingered by the register. She read aloud the week’s quote I’d printed out and posted the day before.
“‘My candle burns at both ends; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—it gives a lovely light.’ I know that one. She’s one of my favorites.”
“Put the poet’s name on a slip of paper and you’ll be eligible for the drawing.” I’d started the candle-quote contest the week before, and Eve had been amazed how many of our regulars had taken the chance to win a ten-dollar gift certificate to the shop.
I saw Erin write “Edna St. Vincent Millay” on the paper, and she even added “A Few Figs from Thistles” on it. She was right on the money.
“I put my phone number on there, too,” she said.
“That’s great. Good luck. I’ll call you if you’re the winner.”
She frowned a second, then nodded. “Okay. Thanks again for the tour, Harrison.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know how your candles turn out.”
“I will.” Erin lingered at the door a moment, then watched as I locked up behind her. I’d been tempted to ask her out, but my rule was firm. I’d asked her once, and she’d declined. If she was interested in anything else, it was going to be up to her. I didn’t have all that much time in my life for dating anyway, not with running At Wick’s End and trying to keep River’s Edge afloat as well, and my ego could only take so much rejection. Still, she’d given me her phone number, that was something.
I made out the deposit for the day and was locking the front door when I remembered the power cord I’d cut off Aaron’s pottery wheel. After slipping it into one of our bags, I locked up again and headed to the bank for my nightly deposit. I’d lost a deposit once because of my carelessness, but it had taken only one time to teach me that particular lesson. I drove to the bank, thought about grabbing something to eat, then decided my waistline and my wallet could both use some home-cooking, even if it did mean spaghetti or a sandwich.
Cragg was just locking up his office when I walked upstairs. I normally do all I can to avoid confrontations, but he’d tried to railroad me into accepting Sanora Gaston back to River’s Edge, and I wasn’t about to let him get away with it.
Chapter 7
I don’t like what you did,” I said without preface.
“What are you referring to?” he asked in his deliberate and sonorous tone.
“You had to know how folks around here felt about Sanora. Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Warn you of what, idle gossip, rumor, and rampant speculation? She was ill-accused, Harrison
, and I wasn’t about to perpetuate the myth. She belongs at River’s Edge.”
I shook my head. How in the world had I been dense enough to actually believe I could win an argument with a lawyer? “I know this is an argument I’m not going to win. I’m just glad I didn’t sign her up to a long-term lease.”
“So you’ve made your mind up already? You’re not even going to give her a chance, are you?”
I thought about it a second, then said, “I haven’t made my mind up about anything. I just wish I’d had all the information before I made my decision.”
That appeased him somewhat. “Just be fair, that’s all I ask. She deserves at least that.”
“As do we all,” I said and slipped inside before Cragg had the chance to get the last word in. Had I meant what I’d said? Was there a chance in the world I would trade Sanora’s presence at River’s Edge for Heather’s? If it came down to keeping one tenant and losing the other, was that a decision I was willing to make? I didn’t want to lose Heather, either as a tenant or a friend, but I also wasn’t about to let anyone dictate my leasing policies to me. Right or wrong; River’s Edge was mine to run.
I just hoped it didn’t come down to losing either one.
There was a knock at my door, and I knew Cragg hadn’t been satisfied in letting me end our conversation. As I opened it, I said, “I told you I’d think about it.”
Markum was there, leaning against the wall just outside my door. “That’s all a man can ask. I’ll leave you, then.”
I said, “Come on in. I thought you were Cragg.”
Markum’s lip curled in disgust. “That’s the meanest thing I ever heard you say, Harrison.”
“You know what I meant.”
The big man came in and made a stab at reining in his wild black hair with a meaty hand. “Sorry to interrupt, but I came by to see what the sheriff had to say.”
“Not much,” I admitted, retelling the conversation I’d had with Morton and the fact that Sanora had taken the wheel to the dump, without mentioning my theft.
Markum said, “So that’s that, then. We’re left without any evidence. I thought, a little too late, about that pottery wheel. When I asked Sanora if I could buy it from her this afternoon, she told me it was already gone.”
I jiggled the bag in my hand. “The wheel’s gone, but I got the cord before she could get rid of it.”
Markum slapped me on the back, nearly knocking me back. “Harrison Black, I’ll make a salvage man out of you yet. Let’s see it.”
I handed the cord over. “I got my fingerprints all over it.”
Markum took it and said, “Come down the hall with me. I want to get a better look at it.”
I followed him out of my apartment and locked the door behind me. Once we were in his office, Markum turned on a light that circled a magnifying glass. It was the size of a coffee cup saucer, and there was no doubt he could indeed get a closer look than the naked eye.
“That’s quite a rig,” I said.
“It’s useful at times, no doubt about that,” he muttered as he unwrapped the cord and studied it, inch by inch. I busied myself watching him for a time, but after a while my gaze shifted to some of the travel posters up in his office. He’d added a new one since I’d been there last, one of a steam- driven engine racing through a mountain pass, the fog lying low in the autumn hills and a blanket of patchwork colors draping it.
“So,” Markum said as he moved the light’s swivel head out of his way.
“It was an accident after all,” I said.
“I doubt it, but we’re not going to be able to prove it by this. Whoever did this was slick, I’ll give them that. Look at this.”
I studied the section under the lens and saw the jagged tearing of the cord’s insulation. “What am I looking at? It’s about what I expected.”
Markum took a pencil point and as it slid under the magnification, it grew twenty times in size. “Look here, at the very start of the tear. What do you see?”
“The line is cleaner than the rest,” I said.
Markum nodded, then switched off the light. “I suspect the first cut was made with a knife, then the gap was rubbed over a piece of wood until the edges softened.”
“So let’s take this to Morton. He’s got to listen now.”
Markum shook his head. “I doubt it. The police work by something called the chain of evidence, and this one’s been lost. What’s to say we didn’t make that little nick ourselves? Even if he believed us, it’s not exactly overwhelming evidence, is it?”
“So what do we do?”
Markum thought about it a second, then said, “We watch, and we wait. I’ve a feeling this particular drama hasn’t played to its end just yet.”
“You know, it might help if I had the slightest idea what you were talking about.”
Markum laughed so loud it nearly shook the panes of glass in his office. “Harrison, I’ve spent too many hours alone talking to myself for lack of decent company. You keep your eyes open during the day, and I’ll do the same at night. Between the two of us, we’ll have someone at River’s Edge watching all the time.”
“Do you think Aaron’s death had something to do with the complex?”
Markum shrugged. “I’m not sure what to think just yet. I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do about it right now.” He started to hand the cord back to me, then hesitated. “Do you mind if I keep this?”
“Be my guest.”
He nodded, opened the safe in his closet and slammed it shut. “There, I feel better about it already.”
My stomach rumbled, and Markum said, “I’d say you were late for a bite of supper.”
“I’m hungry, I admit it. Care to join me?”
He laughed. “I had breakfast an hour ago, my friend. We work on different schedules, in so many ways. Good night, Harrison.”
“Good morning,” I said, and he grinned broadly at me. Markum was more of a mystery after every conversation I had with him than he had been before. Yet again I promised myself that one of these days, I’d surprise us both and take him up on his offer to take part in one of his salvage operations. It would most likely be many things, but I doubted boring would be among them.
It was frustrating not being able to do anything more about Aaron’s murder. No matter what Sheriff Morton thought, I believed just as much as Markum did that Aaron Gaston had been helped along.
Proving it was going to be another matter altogether.
I heated a can of soup, made a sandwich, and was just sitting down to eat when someone knocked at the door of my apartment. As I walked over to see who it was, I wondered about Belle’s decision to live on the property in the only apartment in River’s Edge. There was no doubt it was a time-saver on the commute, since I was living right over the top of At Wick’s End, and it was great not having any rent or utilities to pay, but the downside was that it was extremely difficult to ever get away from it all. It explained Belle’s retreat on the roof, and why I’d been spending more and more time up there lately. But when winter finally set in, what was I going to do? I couldn’t see going to the refuge when there were icy winds coming off the river, let alone snow. I’d have to find someplace else to get away.
Pearly Gray was at the door, running a hand through his luxuriant gray hair.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he stepped inside. There was a clipboard in one hand.
“Late? For what?”
He glanced at my small dining table and said, “You forgot about our meeting, didn’t you? We can do this tomorrow, there’s nothing urgent.”
Then it hit me. We’d decided to have a meeting once a month so I could keep up with what was going on at River’s Edge, and I knew without looking at my calendar that tonight was the date we’d scheduled. Pearly was too precise to have ever forgotten.
“Do you mind if I eat while we talk? I can offer you a sandwich if you’re hungry.” It was time to go shopping again. I’d opened my last can of soup, and my cupboar
d was decidedly bare.
“No, I ate hours ago. If you’re sure you want to do this, I don’t mind keeping you company.”
“Excellent. At least let me get you something to drink.” I peered into the refrigerator and quickly inventoried my meager choices. “I’ve got some Bo’s sweet tea and some orange juice. I can offer you water, too.”
He shook his head and smiled slightly. “Harrison, there’s an art to living on your own. It’s taken me years to master it, and I’d be happy to share some of my techniques for single habitation.”
“I’m fine, thanks. You just caught me before grocery day.”
He nodded. “Of course. Shall we get started?”
“Sounds good to me.” As much as I liked my erudite handyman, I’d been hoping for some time alone.
He glanced at the clipboard and said, “First of all, with The Pot Shot’s space now occupied, we’re back at full capacity.”
“What do you think of me letting Sanora come back to River’s Edge?”
Pearly said, “Harrison, frankly it’s none of my business. She should be a good tenant if her past history is any indication.”
“You mean you aren’t going to disapprove or scold me? Everyone else has expressed an opinion quick enough.”
Pearly leaned back in his chair. “River’s Edge is yours to do with as you see fit. I didn’t get involved when Belle evicted Sanora, and I’m certainly not going to meddle now.”
“Thanks for that,” I said sincerely. “How is she getting along?”
“Tick’s taken her under her wing, I’m happy to say. They made their peace rather quickly. Sanora and Heather are still at odds. I’m worried we might lose her, Harrison, regardless of her lease.”
“I’m worried, too. Anything we can do about it?”
“I’m afraid it’s out of our hands. I’m concerned about her, though, and I’m not afraid to admit it.”
There was something in his eyes and the catch in his voice that told me Pearly wasn’t saying everything he was thinking.
I said, “I know I haven’t known Heather as long as you have, but I care about her, too. There’s something else, isn’t there?”