At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (2 page)

“
So why am I here?” I
asked.

“
As her only living
relative, you stand to inherit her entire estate,” the lawyer
said.

“
I can’t imagine Belle had
all that much,” I said, “and I certainly don’t feel the need to
discuss it right now.”

The attorney held up one hand. “I
understand, it’s a natural reaction. However, your great-aunt,” he
looked pleased at remembering her correct title, “insisted we do
this her way.” At that, Young smiled gently. “She was quite a
forceful lady.”

“
You don’t have to tell
me,” I said. “Okay, what did Belle have to say?”

Young reached across his desk and handed me
a letter. I felt a chill sweep over me as I recognized the precise,
spiderweb writing. “Your great-aunt wanted you to read this. I’ll
give you some privacy,” he added as he stood and excused himself
from his office.

My hands trembled as I tore open the
envelope, somehow uneasy with this missive from the grave.

I needn’t have worried. Though Belle herself
was gone, in this letter, at least, she was still with me, full of
every bit of spit and vinegar as she’d ever been.

Harrison, my boy, if you’re reading this,
I’ve finally kicked the bucket. What a run I had! Don’t mourn me,
young man, and that’s an order. I had more joy than sorrow, more
smiles than frowns. It was a good solid life, one well worth
living, but it’s time for me to shuffle off.

You, on the other hand, are just getting
started. I know, you don’t feel all that young, but from where I’m
sitting, you’re still in short pants.  Let’s cut to the chase,
you know I never really liked all that sentimental mush. I’m giving
you At Wick’s End, and more importantly, all of River’s Edge. You
didn’t know I owned the whole building, did you? The old girl still
has a few surprises up her sleeve.

I put the letter down for a moment,
astounded that Belle had been a property owner and landlord. So
that was why she’d taken me on such an extensive tour of the
converted factory and warehouse when she’d first told me of her
plans to open a candle shop there. What had once been a huge
expansive workspace on the banks of the Gunpowder River was now
divided into stores, shops, offices and even an apartment where
Belle lived. At Wick’s End was in one comer of the downstairs
space. I hadn’t really understood her fascination with candles and
had passed it off as some kind of hobby to keep her active in her
later years. I picked up the letter again and continued
reading.

Now don’t get too excited. River’s Edge
barely brings in enough to cover the taxes and monthly expenses,
and you’ll need to work hard to make a go of it. But that’s exactly
what I want you to do. At Wick’s End is a wonderful place, and I
want you to quit whatever dead-end job you’re currently in and run
my shop. Your shop now, actually. Candles bring light into the
world, my boy, and we need all the illumination we can get.

Allow an old woman the last word. 
Throw yourself into this, Harrison, and make me proud!

I leaned back in my chair, clutching the
letter tightly in my hands. Reading my great-aunt’s words on paper
brought her back to me, if only for a few moments, and I promised
myself that I’d do my utmost to grant her last request. She didn’t
want me mourning her death. The best thing I could do was respect
her wishes and get on with the business of living. But it appeared
Belle was going to shake my life up more in her departure than she
ever had when she’d been alive.

I called Mr. Young back in after I finished
reading Belle’s message for the third time.

He gestured to the letter. “I’m hoping she
explained it all to you in there.”

I shrugged. “I own River’s Edge now, and she
wants me to run the candle shop myself.”

The attorney said, “That’s the gist of it.”
He tapped a paper on his desk and added, “I’m afraid selling the
property is out of the question. She’s locked up the right to do
that until you’ve operated the shop for five years.”

“
I had no intention of
putting the place on the market,” I said stiffly.

Mr. Young nodded. “I’m sure that’s the case,
but I wanted to clear that up from the outset. You should know what
will happen if you decide candlemaking isn’t for you. If you
relinquish your rights before the five years are up, the property
will be auctioned off to the highest bidder, with the proceeds
going to your great-aunt’s favorite charity. The same thing will
happen if you should die before the deadline. So, are you
ready?”

“
For what? You said
yourself there’s not going to be a funeral.”

The attorney shook his head. “I’m talking
about the tour of your new property.”

“
We might as well get it
over with,” I said, wondering what I was getting myself
into.

One thing was certain—it had to be better
than selling second-rate computers. I hoped.

As I stood in front studying the building, I
had to admit, the converted warehouse was glorious. There was no
doubt about that. River’s Edge sported a long two-story facade of
brick that looked every minute of its hundred years. A broad green
awning covered the first-floor windows, supported by massive
handmade oaken brackets from a timber-framer’s dream, while the
second-story windows were open and uncluttered as they looked out
onto the Gunpowder River. A set of nine steps led down from the
porch that spanned the front of the building all the way to the
river, and I could see where a recent high water level had danced
up to the fifth step. Old-fashioned iron lamps hung in front of
every shop, and sets of oak doors guarded each store. There was an
assortment of tables in front of a cafe, and a few matching benches
spaced along some of the other storefronts.

It was hard to believe that it was suddenly
all mine, mortgage and all.

Mr. Young stood beside me as I took in my
new surroundings. “It’s something, isn’t it? Your great-aunt did a
wonderful job holding it all together, no matter what the
difficulties. Now where would you like to start?”

I gestured to the cafe, with its inviting
bay windows and a welcoming sign that said, the crocked pot in
carefully carved wooden letters. “Let’s get some coffee first, and
then we can take the grand tour.”

We walked in and found a cluster of folks
gathered at one of the large tables in back. I was more interested
in the architecture than the people at the moment, though. The dark
hardwood floors, once scarred and stained from the hard work that
had gone on there long before, were now polished to a high sheen,
though the integrity of the old wood still shined through. The
ceilings were a maze of exposed rafters, pipes and ducts, giving an
urban, industrial feel to the place.

We approached the lady at the counter and I
said, “We’d like two coffees, please.”

The plus-size woman had gentle gray eyes,
soft brown curls and a disposition made for smiling. She laughed
softly at my order. “Oh, you’ll have to do better than that. We
haven’t served plain coffee here in donkey years.” She gestured to
the board behind her and it looked like Starbuck’s had invaded.

Mr. Young said, “Allow me to make the
introductions. Millie Nelson, this is Harrison Black. He’s all
that’s left of Belle’s family.” What a way to introduce
someone.

Millie came out from behind the counter, her
smile gone as she took my hand in hers. “Of course. Harrison, I’m
so sorry for your loss.”

“
Thanks, Ms. Nelson, I
appreciate that.”

“
Please, call me Millie.”
She grabbed my arm and led me to the table where a group of people
were clustered. “Everybody, this is Harrison Black. He was Belle’s
great-nephew.”

“
I don’t know how great I
was,” I said with a slight smile, a joke that Belle and I had
shared all our lives. Nobody at the table seemed to get it. So much
for a good first impression.

Mr. Young stepped up and announced,
“Harrison’s more than Belle’s kin. He’s inherited River’s
Edge.”

I looked around the table, trying to conjure
up my best smile as Millie introduced me to them.

As she gestured to a thin young blonde
dressed in a billowing tie-dyed dress, Millie said, “This is
Heather Bane. She owns The New Age.” I nodded, and Heather returned
my greeting in like fashion. “Next, there’s Pearly Gray, he’s the
general handyman around here.”

Pearly, an older fellow with a head of hair
that matched his name, shook my hand hard enough to nearly break
it. “Good to meet you, Harrison. Sorry about Belle. She will be
truly missed.”

The handyman’s voice was rich and cultured
as the words flowed from his lips.

“
Thanks. Man, you must have
had a tough time growing up with a name like Pearly.” Too late I
realized that I probably should have thought before I spoke, but
Pearly just laughed.

“
My real given name is
Parsons, but I seem to have acquired the name Pearly as the luster
of my hair started to fade. It’s actually the name I prefer
now.”

“
Pearly it is,” I
said.

Millie next turned to a man nattily dressed
in a three- piece, charcoal-gray suit with a Phi Beta Kappa key
hanging down from his vest and said more formally, “May I present
Gary Cragg, our resident attorney.”

Cragg shook my hand as he nodded to Mr.
Young. “Delighted. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m due in court soon.”
He was nearly to the door when he turned and said, “We need to
speak later, Mr. Black. There are things most urgent we must
discuss.”

“
I’ll be here,” I said to
his departing back.

Millie turned to the last woman still
without an introduction.

“
And finally, Harrison, I’d
like you to meet Eve Pleasants. She worked with Belle.”

As I offered Eve my hand, she looked at it
as if it were contaminated, then said gruffly, “If you’ll excuse
me, it’s time to open the shop.”

I said, “That’s a great idea. I can’t wait
to get started.”

Eve shot me a withering glare as she said,
“I’m perfectly capable of running the candle shop without your uh
... assistance. Why don’t you finish your tour?”

There was nothing welcoming in her words at
all, but I decided to deal with that later. “Thanks, I appreciate
that. As soon as I get settled in, I’ll be over.”

As she huffed off, Millie said softly,
“Don’t take it personally, Harrison. She and your great-aunt were
quite close.”

“
To be honest with you, I’m
glad to know someone misses her,” I said.

Millie patted my shoulder as she said, “Oh,
she’s missed all right, but the show must go on and our stores have
to open. Belle was most clear about that, she left letters for each
of us. Now let me get you that coffee. What kind would you
like?”

Her smile was infectious. “Surprise me.”

She nodded as Mr. Young touched my arm. “We
need to go upstairs and start our tour.”

“
Coffee first,” I said.
Millie declined my offered payment, then Mr. Young and I ascended
the stairs to the second floor. He said, “The tenants with
storefront shops have the lower level, while the upper area is
reserved for businesses and your residence.”

“
I had no idea the place
was so big,” I said as I studied the second-floor
directory.

“
Oh, yes, Belle did her
best to keep the building occupied at full capacity. That’s odd,”
he said as we entered the hallway.

“
What’s wrong?” I
asked.

He gestured to the door at the end of the
hall and said, “That’s Belle’s apartment. I inventoried her
belongings earlier this morning, and that door was firmly locked
when I left it.”

I looked closer at the door in question and
saw that it was pushed open a few inches, as if someone had been in
too big a hurry to shut it behind them.

Chapter 2

As I started toward the door, Mr. Young
touched my arm.

He said, “Shouldn’t we call the police and
let them investigate this?”

“
If you’d feel better
staying out here, you’re welcome to do just that, but I’m going
in.”

He didn’t have much choice after that but to
follow me in.

Someone had wrecked the place, tearing books
from the shelves and dumping every drawer in the apartment. I
spotted a two-foot-tall candle lying on its side and picked it up,
since it was the closest thing there was to a weapon in sight. I
couldn’t believe how heavy it was in my hands.

There was no need for defense, though. There
wasn’t a soul around.

“
I take it the apartment
wasn’t like this when you left it this morning,” I said as I
surveyed the damage.

“
I assure you, it was in
pristine condition,” Mr. Young said. “I’m sorry, but we simply must
call the police now.”

“
Fine by me,” I said, “but
I don’t even know if anything’s been taken. You said you just did
an inventory. Why don’t you take a few minutes after you call and
see if anything’s missing?”

Mr. Young nodded, and after he telephoned
the police, he took a quick survey of the place. As he scanned the
mess, I picked up a photograph lying facedown on the floor. The
glass had been broken in the frame, but the picture itself was
unharmed. It could have been the static electricity in the air, but
I felt a shock as my fingertips touched it, a framed copy of the
photograph I’d been looking at earlier that morning of Belle and me
together. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and barely heard Mr.
Young’s next comment.