At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (21 page)

“
What happened? Were we
robbed?”

“
No, of course not, don’t
be so melodramatic, Harrison.” She pointed to the shelves and I saw
Mrs. Jorgenson standing there, studying a book on
candlemaking.

I whispered, “What does she want?”

“
She wouldn’t tell me. She
insisted on speaking only with you.”

“
I’d better go see what’s
going on, then.” I wondered if she’d gotten another warning
telephone call, or if the killer might have tried something even
more direct.

I walked over to Mrs. Jorgenson and said,
“We don’t have a lesson scheduled for today.”

“
No, but I wanted your
opinion about something. Pardon me for just dropping in like
this.”

“
You’re always welcome
here, you should know that,” I said. “Where did you get that?” I
asked her, noticing the elegant taper in her hand.

“
I wanted you to see it for
yourself,” she said as she held it out to me for inspection. I took
the candle from her, looked at the smooth seemed edge, the
carefully rolled body and the tight seating of the wick.

“
So,” she asked, waiting
for my pronouncement. “What do you think?”

I studied it a moment longer, then said,
“Well, we don’t normally take candles to sell on consignment, but
we might be able to find room for yours on the shelf.”

Her delight was evident, though she tried to
hide it. “Posh. I don’t want to market it. I was just curious about
your opinion.”

“
I heartily approve. If
you’d like more practice rolling candles, we can have another
lesson, but frankly, I don’t think you need it.”

“
No, I believe I’ve grasped
the basics. Is it time to pour yet?”

I rubbed my hands together. “You bet. I’m
dying to get to
it.”          

Chapter 16

After Mrs. Jorgenson was gone, Eve looked as
if she were ready to cry.

I said, “Don’t worry, we’ll live to fight
another day. She’s excited about the next phase in her
curriculum.”

Eve didn’t have a chance to respond, as
another customer came in, but the relief on her face was
evident.

After I rang the sale up, I was ready to dig
back into my books and start boning up on candle-pouring
techniques.

Eve mentioned casually, “By the way, you had
a visitor while you were at lunch.”

I couldn’t imagine Becka coming back, not
after our last scene. “Who was it?”

“
That attorney
fellow.”

“
Cragg? What did he
want?”

Eve said, “No, the one who used to have
Markum’s office; Belle’s attorney, Lucas Young. Honestly, that man
used to flirt shamelessly with me.”

I had to fight my grin. “Did he want
anything in particular, or was he here asking you out on a
date?”

“
Harrison, I don’t find
that at all amusing. Actually, he seemed more interested in
speaking with you than with me. I’m sure he’ll be
back.”       

Fighting to hide my grin, I said, “Maybe he
really came by to see you, but he lost his nerve at the last
minute.”

“
Bite your tongue. He was
here for you, but I imagine we’ll see him again soon. The man
apparently has nothing better to do than to hover around Wick’s
End.”

“
Then I don’t have to worry
about calling him back, do I?” A man walked into the shop, and I
turned to Eve and asked, “Do you want this customer, or shall I
take him?”

“
By all means, be my
guest,” she said.

After another long day, I was happy to head
up to my apartment and lock the world out on the other side. I was
beginning to realize that living on-site was a mixed blessing. It
made the commute a breeze, but unfortunately, it also meant that I
was there around the clock, good or bad, whenever anyone took the
notion to see me.

Belle’s sanctuary on the roof began to make
more and more sense. I thought about going up to the skyline
retreat, but one glance out the window told me it wouldn’t be the
best time to be outdoors. It was starting to rain, and the breeze
was stirring up. In the distance, there was a hint of I thunder
rumbling in the air. From the look of things, the weather wouldn’t
be settling down anytime soon.

I had no desire to face the world though. I
turned off the ringer on my phone, ate a quick sandwich, then
curled up on the couch to read. It wasn’t Dame Agatha this time, as
much as I would have loved to rejoin her in Miss Marple’s garden. I
took the reference books I’d brought with me from the shop
downstairs and started pouring over the texts. The bank deposit was
still in its bag beside me, but in all honesty, I didn’t have the
heart or the desire to fight the coming storm or my weariness. I’d
drop it off tomorrow before the shop opened, and Eve would be none
the wiser.

At least it wasn’t in danger of being stolen
where it was.

I lit Belle’s candle to give me inspiration
as I read. After spending two hours with the books studying all of
the things that could go wrong with a wax pour, I was beginning to
be astounded that they ever turned out well. It still amazed me
that candles could burn with dyes, fragrances, blocks of other
waxes, even hard objects imbedded in them. I remembered how the wax
would have swallowed up my first shell on my initial attempt at
pouring, and realized suddenly what a wonderful hiding place the
inside of a candle would be.

On a whim, I picked up Belle’s last candle
and turned it over, not really expecting to find anything
there.

At first I didn’t see anything out of the
ordinary in the red bottom, but there was something about the way
the light struck it that caught my eye. Was there a small square of
wax that was lighter than the rest? I carried it closer to one of
the floor lamps and studied it more carefully. Indeed, what was
once hidden was now suddenly revealed. Belle had buried something
within the mold. But why had she hidden it so carefully instead of
making it a prominent part of the candle?

There was only one way to find out.
Whispering a prayer asking for forgiveness, I took a hammer and
screwdriver and started breaking up the last candle my great-aunt
would ever pour on this earth.

The screwdriver my hand clattered to the
floor as I found a small tightly wrapped packet imbedded within the
candle’s base. What in the world was it doing there, where it had
no right to be? My hands were shaking as I carefully unwrapped the
package.

To my utter amazement, a twinkling diamond
the size of my thumbnail tumbled out.

Now what was I going to do? My first
instinct was to call Sheriff Coburn, but the way he’d been treating
me lately, he’d probably claim it represented Belle’s life savings
and then try to tell me that she’d been afraid of banks. That
wasn’t fair, I knew he had more pressing worries than solving what
he honestly believed to be an accidental death, but I still wasn’t
sure what finding the diamonds really meant. It was pretty clear
that Belle had uncovered evidence that someone near her had stolen
the diamonds and killed the jewelry-store owner, but I was no
closer to knowing who it was than the police were. What I did know,
once and for all, was that Belle had been killed for what she knew.
No one could claim that she’d tumbled off that ladder by accident.
But who was the culprit? Clearly it had to be someone around
River’s Edge. That was as far as Belle’s sphere of acquaintances
reached.

There was only one way to find out for sure
who the murderer was. I had to set a trap and see who walked into
it. After I had a better idea who had committed the robbery and two
homicides, I’d call Coburn and turn the evidence all over to him,
including the diamond. After all, I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I
was just trying to find out who had murdered my great-aunt.

I knew that the diamond in my hand had to be
the reason for the recent break-ins at River’s Edge. Someone wanted
it badly enough to trash my great-aunt’s apartment and then ransack
the lockers searching for it. I had to give Belle credit; no one
but a candlemaker would think to look inside a candle
itself.  

The only problem was, now that I had it,
what in the world was I going to do with it?

I stared at the shattered remnants of
Belle’s candle for nearly an hour as a plan formed in my mind.
There had to be something, some way I could use my discovery to
flush out Belle’s killer.

Suddenly the apartment felt too crowded and
confining. , I needed room to pace. I walked out into the hallway,
strolled up and down the carpet as I thought about what I could do.
Maybe it would help to talk to someone else, to gain a little
perspective. I paused at Markum’s door, knocked twice, then put my
ear to it.

No response, nor was there a sound coming
from inside. Either he was ducking someone, or the salvage man
truly was not in.

I went back to the apartment and studied the
ruined shards of Belle’s candle. How could I make this work for me?
Then it hit me. I knew exactly what I had to do.

I looked carefully down the hallway before I
headed down the stairs, just in case anyone was there. I wanted to
keep a low profile going into At Wick’s End. It wouldn’t do to have
my plans spoiled by someone watching me.

Four hours later, I had the new candle
poured. I was admiring my work when I sneezed again. It wasn’t
caused by the scent I’d used in pouring the candle though. I was
coming down with a cold. I had been forced to guess at the exact
size of the candle, since many of the molds we had were similar,
though not identical, but I figured the killer wouldn’t be able to
tell the difference either. Matching the color was a little harder,
adding a little bit of red dye at a time to the melted wax, then
checking a drop on waxed paper to see the true final result. I had
a chip of Belle’s candle as a test piece, so the match ended up
being much closer than I had expected. Since my nose was clogged, I
wasn’t sure how much scent to add, but I put in a modest amount of
cinnamon and hoped it was enough.

I now had a nearly perfect match to Belle’s
candle, with one important exception. I’d found a plastic jewel
used to embellish candles similar to the genuine one in Belle’s
effort, and I made sure one edge of it was touching the mold when I
poured the wax. Belle’s hiding place had been flawless, but I
actually wanted everyone to see that something was in there.

I was just checking the results of the
second part of my plan when Eve walked up outside the candle shop
the next morning.

“
Harrison, I just put that
display up last week. Why did you replace it already?”

I pointed to the window. “I wanted to show
off what I’ve been learning. Do you like it?”

“
It’s a fitting tribute,
putting Belle’s candle there.” I’d put my substitute at the end of
the line, clearly marking the date Belle had made it for the
killer’s benefit. The display showed the progression of the pouring
of a candle, from a chunk of wax and some dye near a double-boiler,
then on to the molds, wicks and sealers along with a careful
scattering of rocks and shells, and finally to the finished
product.

It was as clear as I could make the
progression Belle went through to hide that diamond, but the beauty
of it was that only the killer would see the true meaning behind
it.

Eve walked inside and peered closely into
the display. As she started to pick up the candle, she said,
“What’s that on the edge of the candle? How unlike Belle to be so
careless with her placement.”

I stopped her and said, “I’ve got it just
the way I want it. Belle was probably just in a hurry. Hey, it
happens to the best of us. Are you ready to get started on our
day?”

“
I’m ready,” she said as
her gaze lingered on the candle itself. Was she studying the red
candle out of curiosity, or did she suddenly realize what Belle had
done? Eve would certainly bear watching over the next few hours,
along with everyone else who stepped inside At Wick’s
End.

I’d been expecting something to happen early
on, and I found myself on edge as I watched the access to the
window display. Millie came by around ten-thirty. “Nice window,
you’all.”

‘
Thanks,” I said. “Who’s
minding the store?”

“
We had a lull so I locked
the cafe up. I wanted to try this new recipe for my pumpkin
doughnuts on you. It’s getting to be that time of year again. Would
you two mind taking a taste and telling me what you
think?”

Eve said, “I’d love to. Just a nibble,
though.”

Millie’s response was to hand her an entire
doughnut, just after she handed one to me.

I said, “Hey, how do you know I wanted
one?”

She just smiled. “We haven’t known each
other all that long, but I think I know you better than that.”

I said, “I wish I had the willpower to say
no just to prove you wrong, but I can’t. They smell too good.”

It was wonderful, nothing short of
perfection as I bit into the doughnut. I pretended to take my time,
carefully considering all aspects of the doughnut’s bouquet,
texture and taste.

Eve said, “It’s really rather good.”

Millie turned to me. “Harrison, what do you
think?”

“
Honestly? It’s too soon to
tell. I don’t suppose you have another I might try, just to compare
the uniformity of the product?”

She handed me another doughnut with a smile
on her face. “You scamp. Thanks for trying it.”

“
Millie, I’ll be your
taste-tester any time.”