At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (24 page)

With a shaky hand, I reached for the
telephone and called Sheriff Morton. He was the final authority for
the law in Micah’s Ridge, at least as far as I was concerned.

“
Morton here,” he answered
after the desk sergeant rang me through.

“
I’ve got a problem,” I
said after identifying myself.

“
Write a letter to Ask
Ernestine,” he said, “I’ve got my hands full right now.”

I wasn’t in the mood for his brusque manner.
“Sheriff, one of my tenants is dead. I’m standing here in the dark
with his body, and my flashlight’s starting to flicker out.”

That got his attention. “Sorry, Harrison,
I’ve got three deputies out sick at the same time. There’s a really
nasty bug ripping through my department. Are you sure he’s
dead?”

I reluctantly trained the dimming beam over
the body again. While dusk was just approaching outside, the shop
was in near total darkness. There was still light enough from my
flashlight to see the pallor of his face, though. Aaron was
surrounded by a pool of darkness that I initially mistook for
blood, but after a closer look, I could see that it was nothing
more than spilled water. My imagination was definitely running on
overtime.

“
There’s not much doubt
about that,” I said.

“
Don’t touch anything,”
Morton said, then added with a hint of chagrin in his voice,
“You’re using his phone, aren’t you?”

“
Yes, I grabbed his
telephone. I had to call you, didn’t I?”

After a sigh, Morton said, “Let me amend
that, then. Don’t touch anything else. And Harrison?”

“
Yes?”

“
I know it’s not all that
pleasant, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave the body until
I got there.”

After hanging up the phone, I stayed with
Aaron about two seconds before I decided that staying with the body
could mean a lot of different things. If I waited for Morton
outside by the shop’s front door, blocking the way of anyone else
trying to get in, that should satisfy him.

It was going to have to, since my light was
just about gone, and there was no way I was going to stand around
in the dark with a dead body.

I used the master key Pearly had given me
when we’d started checking on our tenants and locked the door
behind me. I hadn’t wanted to keep up with all those keys in the
first place; there were over a dozen places of business at River’s
Edge, so I’d let Pearly watch after them for me. It was all I could
do to keep up with the keys to my apartment upstairs, both trucks,
and of course, the ones for At Wick’s End. Sometimes, particularly
moments like the one I was experiencing, I’d wished my Great-Aunt
Belle had left me a minor league baseball team, a yogurt stand,
even a bowling alley; anything but a candleshop and the building it
was housed in. She’d died in At Wick’s End, and some folks thought
it creepy that I’d taken over given the circumstances, but they
hadn’t read the letter my great-aunt had left me. At Wick’s End was
her baby, and she’d wanted more than anything else in the world for
me to watch over it for her. No one had been more surprised than I
had been when I took to candlemaking from the very start, not even
Eve Pleasants, the woman who had helped Belle and now worked for
me.

“
Harrison? Is that
you?”

From the shadows of one of the storefronts,
Heather Bane appeared. In her mid-twenties, Heather ran The New
Age, a shop full of crystals and tomes on spiritual healing,
situated next door to At Wick’s End. Heather’s long blonde hair was
pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a tie-dyed smock
over her blue jeans and T-shirt. Esmeralda, her store cat and my
one-time roommate, flicked her tail at me as they approached.

“
Guilty as charged,” I
said. “You’re working late tonight.”

She grumbled, “My register totals don’t
match again. I must be losing it, Harrison, this is the third time
it’s happened this week. I was trying to figure out how I’d goofed
up this time when the lights went off. What’s going on with the
power?”

I knew the grapevine at River’s Edge would
spread the news of Aaron’s demise soon enough, but I didn’t want to
be the one to start the story. Still, Heather had a right to know
what was happening in one of the shops around us.

“
It’s Aaron,” I
said.

Heather’s gaze shot to the door behind me.
“What about him?”

“
I don’t know how to tell
you this. He’s dead.”

“
Dead?” I wasn’t sure what
reaction I was expecting, but her trying to fight past me to get
into The Pot Shot was not one I’d have considered.

“
You can’t go in there,” I
said, holding her arms gently in restraint. “There’s nothing we can
do. I’ve already called the sheriff. He’s on his way.”

“
He can’t be dead,” she
started to sob. “He can’t be.”

“
I’m sorry,” I
said.

She let out a wail that startled Esmeralda,
then before I could stop her, Heather shoved her cat into my arms
and raced for her car. Oddly, her lime-green Volkswagen Beetle was
out in front instead of in its usual spot in back of the building
with the rest of the tenants.

I called out, “Hey, where are you going?
What about your cat?”

Esme tried to twist out of my arms, but I
held fast. If that cat managed to slip out of my grasp, I’d have a
nightmare of a time trying to find her. Heather was taking the
potter’s death much harder than I’d expected. Granted, Aaron’s
death was a shock, but Heather had instantly fallen apart. I knew
that everybody reacted to trauma differently, though. It was just
starting to sink in with me that one of my tenants was dead. I was
still numb, and that was the only thing that was keeping me going.
When it hit me later, as I knew it would, I’d have my own shock to
deal with.

Heather didn’t reply to my questions as she
got into her car and drove off, but I could see the tears streaming
down her cheeks as she turned toward me for an instant.

After the sheriff drove up and joined me in
front of The Pot Shot, Morton gestured to the cat. “Got an
eyewitness there, or is that the culprit?”

“
She belongs to
Heather.”

“
So where is she?” the
sheriff asked.

“
She had to run an errand,”
I said, not wanting to go into Heather’s reaction until I’d had a
chance to talk to her about it some more.

“
So you’re stuck
cat-sitting.”

I stroked Esme’s head. “Let’s just say we’re
hanging out together.”

Morton raised one eyebrow, then said,
“Whatever. Okay, let’s see the body. Can you turn some lights on
around here? I know times are tough, but you can afford a little
electricity, can’t you?”

“
The power shorted out and
blew a fuse. That’s how I found him. Pearly and I were both looking
for the cause. As far as I know, he’s still upstairs. Do you have a
flashlight in your car?”

“
Absolutely. Give me one
second.” As I waited for Morton to grab his flashlight, I was glad
to be able to put this in the sheriff’s hands, whether it was an
accident, or more unlikely, a homicide. I’d been forced to look
into my Great- Aunt Belle’s murder when Morton hadn’t believed that
her death had been deliberate, but that had been personal, and I
had no doubt the sheriff would be able to handle this particular
situation. I didn’t have time to help even if he asked, which I was
certain he wouldn’t be doing. I had my star student and number-one
customer, Mrs. Henrietta Jorgenson, coming in tomorrow, and we were
embarking on a new way to make candles. Earlier we’d learned, with
me barely one step ahead of her, rolling candles out of sheets of
wax and the basics of pouring hot, melted wax into molds. I was
going to teach her the dipping method, and some of its variations,
and I’d been practicing like a madman when she’d announced she was
ready to tackle a new way to make candles during her last visit.
Mrs. Jorgenson had very deep pockets and an honest love for my
craft, two things that endeared her to me.

When the sheriff returned with a heavy-duty
flashlight that no doubt doubled as a nightstick, I unlocked the
door to The Pot Shot and stepped aside so he could enter. It was
only natural that Esmeralda and I follow him inside.

“
You’re not bringing that
cat in here, are you?” the sheriff asked.

“
Don’t worry, I’ve got
her.”

He shook his head, but he didn’t forbid it,
so I figured it was okay. Despite my impromptu earlier
pronouncement, the sheriff knelt down and tried to find a pulse. As
he searched for the faintest sign of life, there was nothing I
could do but watch and wait. I found myself holding my breath as
Morton loomed over the dead man. Had I missed something? Was there
a chance Aaron hadn’t been dead when I’d come in? If so, I’d wasted
precious time by not calling an ambulance first.

Morton’s attention left the body, then his
beam of light trailed across the floor. It appeared to me that the
potter had been sitting at his wheel and had crashed onto the floor
beside it. Aaron had been about my age, somewhere in his thirties,
but I’d already lost one childhood friend to a heart attack, so I
knew that was a distinct possibility here. As the sheriff examined
the cord that ran from the pottery wheel to the outlet, I said, “He
is dead, isn’t he?”

“
Oh yes, I agree with your
diagnosis, Doctor.”

“
For how long? Can you
tell?”

Morton brushed away my questions as if they
were circling gnats. “What? I don’t know, but it’s been a while.
Listen, why don’t you wait upstairs? I’ll find you when I’m
finished here.”

“
Fine by me,” I said as I
started out with Esme. The cat was quiet in my grasp, almost
nestling inward toward me. Could she sense the presence of death in
the room, or was it due more to Heather’s abrupt
abandonment?

“
Wait a second,” Morton
called out as I neared the door. “This is it. It has to
be.”

“
What did you find?” I
asked as I hurried back toward him.

The sheriff shined his light on part of the
electrical cord, and I could see that it was so frayed some of the
wiring was showing through. Beside it was a puddle of water and a
nearly empty bucket. “I’d have to say it was accidental,” the
sheriff said. “Looks like he must have knocked the bucket over and
the water hit the wire.”

“
Then let’s unplug it so I
can get the power going,” I said. I didn’t mean to be callous about
the whole thing, but I did have a building without
electricity.

“
Not so fast,” the sheriff
said. “I need to get photos of all this first.”

“
You said yourself it was
an accident.”

Morton said, “You can wait for me to take
some pictures first. Hey, where are you going?”

“
Upstairs, like you
suggested,” I replied. “I’ve got a half-gallon of cherry-chocolate
ice cream in my freezer, and if you’re going to take as long as I
think you are, it’s going to melt by the time I get the power back
on. Can I bring you a bowl?”

Morton shook his head, then as I walked off,
he added, “Maybe just a little.”

I carried Esmeralda upstairs, found some
kitty litter from her last visit and used an old pan of Belle’s for
a litter box. I’d picked up a few extra cans of food at the store
for her, just in case she came visiting again. Esme seemed pleased
by the prospect of eating, and I wondered if Heather had already
fed her. Oh well, one extra meal wouldn’t do much harm. After she
was settled in, I got the ice cream out and scooped two bowls of
it.

By the time I got back downstairs, Morton
was nearly finished with his flash photography. Pearly was standing
by the doorway watching intently.

The second he saw me, he reached for one of
the bowls. “You’re a scholar and a gentleman, Harrison Black.
Thanks, I can surely use this.” He took a bite, then said, “Ice
cream is man’s finest hour, wouldn’t you say?”

“
I’d have to go with
penicillin, but I like the way you think.”

Pearly gestured inside with his spoon.
“Terrible business, that.”

I nodded, then watched as Morton came out,
put his camera down, and took the other bowl out of my hands. Oh
well, there was enough for one more serving upstairs, if it didn’t
melt by the time I got back to it.

The sheriff took a bite, then said, “I
pulled the plug from the outlet, so if you want to reset the
breaker, you’ll most likely have power.”

Pearly said, “I’ll do it instantly.” I was
kind of hoping he’d forget about his ice cream, but he remembered
and took it with him back to the boiler room where the fuse box
stood.

Less than a minute later, half the stores in
River’s Edge lit up, including At Wick’s End, The New Age, and The
Pot Shot in front of us. “That will make taking the rest of the
photos easier,” Morton said. “I’ll be here a while, but I’d like to
talk to you before I leave. Will you be upstairs?”

“
I wish, but no, I’ll be in
the candleshop. I’ve got a big day tomorrow, and I’ve got to get
ready for it.”

“
No rest for the landlord,
is there? I’ll be by soon.”

I made a detour back upstairs before going
to the candleshop. I wanted to check on Esmeralda. I was concerned
when I couldn’t find her anywhere in the apartment, but when I
looked in my small bedroom again, I found her curled up on my
pillow, sound asleep.

It appeared that she had settled into my
place quite nicely.