At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (22 page)

Heather came by half an hour later. If she
noticed the window, she didn’t mention it. “Harrison, I’ve got
another picnic ready. Care to join me?”

I almost turned her down, since I wanted to
watch that window. But couldn’t I see the front of the store from
the steps? And if someone reached in to grab my bait, I’d be there
in time to catch the culprit red-handed.

“
Okay, but I can’t stay
long,” I said.

As we walked out of the candle shop, I
asked, “What do you think of our new display window? I just
finished it this morning.”

She studied it a few moments, then said,
“You know, Belle was always after me to learn how to make candles,
but I kept putting her off. Do you think you might be able to find
the time to teach me someday?”

“
Absolutely. I’ll even give
you my River’s Edge discount.” It appeared that my candlemaking
display was lost on her as a clue to Belle’s clever hiding
place.

As we walked down to the steps where we’d
eaten before, Heather produced two homemade turkey clubs and
offered me a Sprite.      

I said, “I’m going to have to take you
somewhere fancy to make up for
this.”      

She said, “Sometimes I get so tired of
eating alone. Having your company is nice.”

“
So who’s watching The New
Age? Is Mrs. Quimby working this afternoon?”

“
No, at the moment
Esmeralda is my only employee. She should do just fine on her own
though. She’s very competent, you know.”

“
So you’ve trained her to
run the cash register and answer the telephone too?”

Heather grinned. “That wasn’t the toughest
part. It turns out that making change gives her a headache.”

“
She’s in good company.”
The entire time we ate, I kept my vigil on the window, waiting for
a hand to swoop in and take the candle. A very real part of me
hoped it wasn’t Eve, but she probably had more reason to wish Belle
harm than anyone else, especially if my great-aunt had confided her
intent to give me the business instead of her.

“
Harrison, is something
wrong?” Heather asked.

“
No, why?” I asked, keeping
my gaze on the store.

“
You seem distracted.” She
paused, then suddenly said, “I bet I know what it is. It’s about
the Dodge, isn’t it?”

“
What about the
Dodge?”

She looked down at her sandwich. “Harrison,
it’s not that I was ashamed of driving it or anything. That’s not
why I changed my mind. I just couldn’t bear the thought of going
there alone. Honest.”

“
It sounds like you’ve got
every reason in the world to avoid that place when you’re by
yourself,” I said. “I understand completely.”

“
I’m glad.”

After we finished our meal, Heather asked,
“Would you like to take a walk along the riverbank? It’s really
beautiful this time of year.”

“
I’d like to, I honestly
would, but I can’t leave At Wick’s End right now.”

“
I shouldn’t leave my store
either,” she said with her head bowed slightly. “Another time,
then.”

“
I promise.”

I glanced over to check on the candle when I
walked back into the shop, just in case I’d missed something. It
was still there, crying out for attention. The display had to work.
I didn’t know any other way to catch the killer. I just had to
accept the fact that it might take longer than I’d hoped for the
culprit to show up.

We had a steady flow of customers coming in
and out for the rest of the day, buying the gamut from basic kits
to some of our most sophisticated and expensive molds. If I’d been
focusing just on our income, it would have been a banner week even
without Mrs. Jorgenson’s cash infusion a couple of days before. I
found as time went by, I was referring fewer and fewer customers to
Eve and was handling their requests myself. It felt good, growing
in competence, but that blasted candle in the window took away
every ounce of joy from the experience.

Finally, Eve commented on my state of mind.
“Well, all I can say is that I’d hate to see you when the receipts
were low if this is how you act on a good day.”

“
What? Sorry, I was
thinking about something else.”

“
Obviously. Care to share
what’s on your mind with a harmless old woman?”

I pretended to look wildly around the store.
“Is there one still here? I thought everyone left but us.”

She smiled briefly. “Millie was right, you
are a rascal, Harrison.”

“
I believe she accused me
of being a scamp,” I said, matching her smile.

“
They both fit you.” She
glanced at the clock. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to make today’s
deposit for you. I know it’s out of your way, given your commute
upstairs. I don’t mind, really.”

I suddenly remembered yesterday’s deposit,
still on my couch. If I let Eve take it, I’d have to admit I’d
neglected to do it yesterday. “I’ll take care of it myself. It
gives me an excuse to get out for a little while.”

“
Are you certain? I’m happy
enough to do it, just as long as you don’t make a habit of
it.”

“
I appreciate the offer,
but I’ve got it covered. Go on home. It was a good day.”

She paused at the door, looked back at me
and said, “Harrison, I really do like the window. It’s the most
fitting tribute to Belle I could imagine.”

“
Well, she never did like
much of a fuss. Hopefully this would have made her
smile.”

“
No doubt about it,” Eve
said as she left.

I locked up behind her, disappointed that my
ploy hadn’t worked.

I’d just have to come up with some other way
to flush the killer out.

There was no way I was going to let Belle’s
murderer get away, now that I knew what had really happened.

Chapter 17

As I drove to the bank in Belle’s truck, I
thought about my list of suspects, and the likelihood that any of
them were involved in Belle’s death as well as the murder/theft at
the jewelry store.

Eve might have had a reason to kill Belle in
a fit of anger. After all, she had fully expected to take over At
Wick’s End, and Belle had robbed her of that. But the
jeweler?  Hardly. Heather had no reason to kill Belle or the
jewelry store owner, but she had acted rather oddly about the Dodge
truck. Somehow I thought Markum would have found a way to commit
the robbery and cover it up without anyone being the wiser. He
seemed too competent to leave a string of bodies behind him. Pearly
Gray might have had his own reasons for the initial theft, but
again, he had the same air of proficiency that made me doubt he’d
do such a bad job of it. Gary Cragg, the attorney, had wanted to
buy the property from me, just as he had tried with Belle. Was it
grounds enough for murder, and where did the robbery come into the
picture? Was he planning to use the proceeds from the theft to buy
the property? Becka had a temper, one of the reasons we’d parted,
and she certainly could have gotten angry enough to confront Belle.
In that case, it would have been in the heat of passion, not giving
Belle time to hide the diamond, now safely tucked away in my front
pocket. That left Millie, a woman I couldn’t see harming anyone,
and Lucas Young, Belle’s estate attorney. He knew, better than
anyone else in the world, what Belle’s provisions were for tying up
the property for five years. I couldn’t see him committing murder
either.

That left one possibility that was too
outlandish for me to accept, that Belle had actually died of an
accident, and that diamond had absolutely no significance
whatsoever other than Belle’s retirement plan. That would likely be
Sheriff Coburn’s take on things, but I wasn’t buying it.

I’d never been a big fan of coincidences.
Not when it came to murder.

I half-expected the shop door to be burgled
when I got back, but everything was still as I’d left it in At
Wick’s End, with the candle still holding down its corner of the
display.

My plan to flush out the killer had been a
wash. It was time to get back to the business of candlemaking.
After all, that was where my living was coming from for at least
the next five years. I’d have to come up with some other way to
trap Belle’s killer.

My water bath for Belle’s substitute candle
had worked out fine, leaving me with a candle unmarred by the
pinpricks, striations, cracks or bubbles the books all warned
about. But I didn’t feel competent enough to teach the technique
yet. I knew I still needed a great deal of practice before I was
ready for my next session with Mrs. Jorgenson.

I was just starting to pour another candle
to be sure I knew what I was doing when there was an urgent
pounding at the front door. Without even realizing I was still
carrying the jug of hot wax in my hand, I walked up front to see
who was trying to get my attention so late after closing.

It was Lucas Young, no doubt checking up
again to see how I was adapting to my new life. He’d be
disappointed when he found that Eve was already gone for the
day.

I opened the door and said, “Come in, Lucas.
What brings you to At Wick’s End?”

“
I’m glad you’re still
here, Harrison. I was out this way this evening and saw your window
display. It’s quite touching, actually, a fine tribute to your
aunt. Great-aunt,” he corrected automatically.

“
Thanks. I wanted to do
something to mark her passing, and I thought it would be
appropriate.” The window was certainly getting a great deal of
attention, there was no doubt about that.

“
In fact,” he continued.
“I’d like to buy that particular candle from you. It would give me
a keepsake to remember Belle by. She was one of the finest women I
ever knew.”

“
Sorry, but it’s not for
sale,” I said as a chill ran through me.

He wasn’t about to give up that easily.
“Come now, you’re just starting a business brand-new to you. I know
what your financial situation looks like, Harrison. Surely you’ve
got enough of your own memories to part with this one object. I’m
willing to be quite generous with you.”

“
I’m sorry, but this one’s
kind of special.”

Then I knew. Lucas Young was behind it all.
Things started to click in my mind, coincidences coming together
that didn’t make sense any other way. His constant appearances
around the shop, his familiarity with the building since he’d been
the tenant in Markum’s old office at one time, and the fact that
he’d been the only one who’d had a key to Belle’s apartment legally
as her executor; there were too many coincidences for my taste. I
studied him, wondering what his motive could be, wishing I’d armed
myself with a baseball bat or something to defend myself with. All
I had was a pot of wax.

Hot wax. Maybe, if it came to that, it could
work.

“
I really must insist,” the
attorney said, reaching into his jacket pocket. I could see the
outline of something bulky there, and there was no doubt in my mind
he was going for a gun.

It was time to stop playing detective before
he did anything I’d live to regret. I had no desire to face a man
with a gun when all I had was a pitcher of hot wax. Before Young
could finish that motion, I said, “I had no idea she meant that
much to you. Of course you can have it.”

He eased his hand back out of his pocket,
and instead reached for his wallet. “Would a hundred dollars be
sufficient?”

“
That would be fine,” I
said.

The attorney took the candle after handing
me the money. As he walked toward the door, I eased my grip on the
wax. Once Young was outside, I’d call Sheriff Coburn and tell him
all I knew. Let him take the risks. After all, that’s why he was
the sheriff and I was the candlemaker.

The attorney held the candle tightly as he
stopped near the door, then slid the dead bolt in place instead of
walking out.

“
What’s wrong,” I asked.
“Did you forget something?”

“
No, but you did. I
happened to smell this candle in Belle’s apartment when I broke in,
and it had the distinct aroma of cinnamon. This one smells like
clove.”

Blast it all, I’d added the wrong scent! I
was coming down with a cold, so the different aroma had been lost
on me as I made the duplicate, and in my rush to finish the candle,
I must have grabbed the wrong bottle of essence.

Young said, “That can mean only one thing.
You must know,” he said, this time pulling the gun all the way out
of his jacket pocket.

There are times I just hate being right.

“
I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” I said, trying to stall him long enough to come up
with some kind of plan to get myself out of a pretty bad
situation.

“
Give it up, Harrison. You
wouldn’t take the bait on the Dodge, so I decided to delay killing
you until I could come up with another accident. No time for that
now. It looks like you’re going to have to die in a robbery
attempt. A pity really, since we both know how little you actually
make here.”

“
But why kill me at all,” I
asked, wondering if I could throw the wax at him and get out of the
way of the shot in time.

“
I’m afraid that’s been my
final option from the beginning. You see, there was something you
weren’t meant to know, an additional codicil to Belle’s will just
in case you refused to leave. Your great-aunt didn’t know about it
either, for that matter. I added a little proviso that turned the
estate over to its executor if you decided to quit or if something
happened to you before the one-year anniversary of Belle’s death.
You didn’t stand a chance.”