At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (18 page)

Not that I would ever have admitted it to
anyone else.

Especially to the cat.

I woke up to the sounds of mewing the next
morning. It appeared that my roommate was hungry, and wasn’t the
least bit reluctant to share that news with me. Heather hadn’t told
me anything about the frequency of Esmeralda’s diet, but I couldn’t
take that pitiful sound, so I opened another can for her.

“
It looks like this is
going to be our last day together, Esme,” I said as we both ate our
breakfasts.

The cat studied me a moment before going
back to her food.

“
I just wanted to say
you’re welcome any time. As long as you can resist the rolls of
paper around here.”

There was a knock at the door, and I was
surprised to find Heather there.

“
You’re back early,” I said
as I led her into the apartment.

“
Mom’s much better. I went
home with her last night, but she was ready to be on her own, so I
was told in no uncertain terms that it was time for me to
leave.”

“
Ouch,” I said. “That had
to hurt.”

“
Not really, it just meant
that she was feeling better. Hey, sweetheart, did you forget all
about me?” Heather said to her cat.

Esme looked at her, seemed to think about it
a moment, then walked casually toward her owner.

Heather scooped her up, laughing. “I missed
you too, you rascal. I see you’ve duped Harrison into overfeeding
you.”

“
Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t
know her schedule.”

Heather laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s a great
con artist. I’ll be back a little later for her things, if that’s
all right with you. I want to open early and check on the
store.”

“
Tell you what. I’ll bring
everything to At Wick’s End and you can get it there.” I considered
stroking Esme’s head, then thought better of it. In a formal tone,
I said, “It was a pleasure rooming with you, Dame
Esmeralda.”

Heather smiled. “I’m glad you two got
along.”

“
We had our moments, but I
believe we ultimately managed to forge a bond of trust.”

“
Harrison, you are too
funny. Thanks again.”

As Heather carried her cat away, I could
swear that rascal swished her tail at me before the door
closed.

I got ready to go downstairs, amazed by how
empty the apartment felt without Esmeralda’s presence.

I opened At Wick’s End with no sign of Eve
in sight. As the minutes ticked down to the opening hour, my sense
of panic grew stronger and stronger. Had something driven her off
again? The least she could have done was call me. I got everything
ready for opening, half-expecting her to show up at any time, but
when I finally unlocked the door to officially start the business
day, I was completely alone.

“
Deep breaths, Harrison,
you can handle this,” I told myself as I waited for my first
customer.

A young woman with the wildest tangled hair
I’d ever seen in my life came in two minutes after I opened.

“
Where’s Eve?” she said
before I could offer a “good morning” to her.

“
She’s running late,” I
said, hoping that was true. “Can I help you?”

“
You’re new here, aren’t
you? If Eve’s not available, Belle will do.”

I pursed my lips, then said solemnly, “I’m
sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Belle’s gone.”

“
Where did she go?” the
woman asked, a slight annoyance in her voice. “She didn’t quit her
own store, did she?”

There really wasn’t any delicate way to put
it. “Belle died a few days ago.”

The words hung between us for what felt like
days before she said somberly, “I’m so sorry to hear that.” She
paused, then added, “Well, how about you? Do you know anything
about molds?”

“
A bit,” I
admitted.

“
My candles keep sticking,
and I can’t for the life of me figure out what I’m doing wrong. I
just started this crazy hobby and it’s already driving me
insane.”

I led her to the section with waxes and
releases. “You have a couple of options,” I said. “You can add
stearin, it causes the wax to shrink some as it hardens. Then
there’s mold release. You coat your mold with it before you make
your pour.”

She studied me, then said, “I’d say you know
more than a little bit about all this.”

“
What can I say, I’m a
quick study. So which will it be?”

“
Tell you what, give me
some of each. And I’ll take another ten pounds of wax and a packet
of wicks while you’re at it. I don’t get into town all that
much.”

After I rang up her order and bagged the
supplies, the woman shot a hand across the register to me. “I’m
Emmaline Hannah. Listen, I’m really sorry about Belle. I only met
her once, but I thought she had a sweet spirit. So you’re running
things now.”

“
I am. My name’s Harrison
Black.”

She gave me a bright smile, then said, “Well
Harrison Black, it’s good to meet you. I’d love to stand around and
chat half the morning away, but there are things to do, places to
go, and folks to pester.”

After she was gone, I had to smile myself.
At Wick’s End certainly had its share of eccentric customers.
Somehow it made me feel right at home.

Chapter 13

Just as I began to give up all hope of ever
seeing Eve again, she walked in the door a little after 1 pm.

“
You could have called,” I
said as she hung up her coat.

“
Why on earth would I want
to do that?” she said.

“
We open at 9:00 am,” I
replied a little frostily.

“
But I don’t come in until
one today. I thought that was what you wanted. Didn’t you look at
the schedule, Harrison?”

“
I didn’t know we had one,”
I said as I put a few extra bags under the counter. I’d had a busy
morning, selling quite a bit of small-priced stock, a dollar here
and there that still managed to add up to a respectable
total.

She said, “I suppose I understand your
pique. The schedule’s on the back of the office door.”

I walked back, with Eve on my heels. Once we
were inside, I closed the door, and sure enough, there was a
schedule in Belle’s crisp handwriting.

“
I’m sorry, you’re right,
but I thought you weren’t coming in at all today.” I added softly,
“You promised me you’d work full-time this week.”

“
I didn’t assume that meant
I had to be here whenever you were. On the evenings I teach classes
here, I never come in until one. I’m going to have quite a bit of
overtime as it is.” Eve shook her head. “Harrison, given my action
Sunday I can’t hold it against you, but you should know that I
would never miss a shift, at least not without calling you
first.”

“
I should have figured it
out on my own. So what’s the class about this evening?”

“
Actually, you might
consider sitting in. I’m teaching four students how to pour
candles. It should help you get a feel for what we do in our
general classes.”

“
It sounds great. Do you
mind covering for me while I go get something to eat? I’m
starving.”

“
That’s why I’m here. Take
your time at lunch. I’ve got the store under control.”

I walked outside and thought about getting a
slice of pizza and a Coke at A Slice of Heaven, but I decided to
make a sandwich upstairs and eat it on the steps of River’s Edge. I
loved the convenience of having Millie right there and the pizza
parlor not much farther away, but if I bought my breakfast and
lunch from other people every day, I’d end up losing money every
week, certainly spending more than I could afford.

I slapped a sandwich together, walked
downstairs and back out into the lovely weather. A breeze had
kicked up in the short time I’d been upstairs, and I found myself
wishing for a light jacket.

My friends the ducks were back when I
returned to the spot where Heather and I had picnicked, and I was
ready for them. I’d packed an extra piece of bread just for them,
and they gobbled it down with great delight. The simple meal was
enhanced by the day, as I found myself sliding happily into the new
life Belle had chosen for me. I felt guilty not pursuing my
suspicions surrounding her death more vigorously, but if anyone in
the world would understand how much work it was to run At Wick’s
End, it would have been Belle. Still, I promised myself as soon as
I got a little breathing room, I’d do a little more digging and
find out what had really happened to her.

The rest of the afternoon raced past, and
after another quick bite upstairs during the half hour we were
closed between regular hours and the scheduled evening class, it
was time to get started. I helped Eve lay out the supplies we’d
need, adding an extra of each at another bench so I could follow
along myself. We had hot plate burners at each station,
double-boilers, chunks of wax, wicks, and an array of dye blocks
and bottled concentrated scents.

Eve surveyed my work, then said, “We need
some ice from the freezer, but wait a while before you get that.”
She also grabbed some odd chunks of colored wax, along with baskets
filled with seashells and pretty rocks.

“
What are these for,” I
asked as I ran my hand through the basket at my table.

“
You’ll see.”

There was a knock on the front door, and Eve
glanced at the clock. “Right on time. Would you let them in,
Harrison?”

I nodded and headed to the front of the
store. A group of four women spanning the generations were waiting
for me, from eight years old to eighty. They appeared to run the
gamut from great-granddaughter to the grand matriarch herself.

The grandmother asked, “Are we early? We
couldn’t wait to get started.”

I bent just short of a royal bow. “Come in,
ladies. I’m Harrison Black.”

The eldest in the group said, “I was under
the impression a woman named Eve would be our instructor this
evening.”

“
I’m observing tonight, if
you don’t mind,” I said as I locked up behind them. The last thing
we wanted were customers wandering in during the class. Besides,
I’d been on my feet all day. The idea of sitting at one of the
benches instead of waiting on other folks was pretty
appealing.

“
We’d be delighted to have
you,” another of the women said, no doubt the youngest girl’s
mother. “Isn’t that right, Grandma?”

“
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.”