At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (25 page)

I headed back downstairs, jiggling the door
to The New Age as I walked past. At least Heather had locked up
before coming to find me in front of the pottery shop. I had
assumed she had been outside looking for me after the power outage,
but after seeing her reaction when I’d told her of Aaron’s death, I
suddenly wasn’t all that sure.

As I reentered At Wick’s End, I tried to put
Aaron, Heather, and the rest of it all from my mind. Making
candles, especially when working with scalding hot wax, is serious
business, and I needed every bit of concentration I could give it
if I wanted to keep from getting burned.

I was building up a nice blue taper when
Morton walked into the store, the chime announcing his arrival.
“You’re really burning it at both ends, aren’t you?”

I tried to smile. “What better place for
that than a candleshop? Are you finished?”

“
They just took the body
away, and I’ve finished my preliminary work. I’ve got a forensic
team coming in the morning, but with so many folks out sick, it
might be a while. I taped the door, just in case, so don’t let
anyone in there, okay?”

“
They won’t get in with our
key,” I said, “But I can’t stand around and guard the
place.”

“
You’ve got your hands
full, don’t you,” he said as he gestured to the wax.

“
You want to know the
truth? It’s great fun. I’d be happy to give you a lesson sometime,
if you’re interested.”

Morton shook his head. “Thanks, but I think
I’ll pass.”

“
You don’t know what you’re
missing,” I said.

He looked around, then said, “I’ve got a
pretty good idea. Oh, that’s right. You don’t know about my
ex-wife. She was quite the candlemaker. The whole thing kind of
left a bad taste in my mouth, you know?”

“
Well, if you ever change
your mind, I’m here,” I said.

Morton tipped his hat, then left me to my
dipping.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was
approaching ten. If I was going to be fresh in the morning for my
one-on-one class, I needed to get some rest. Besides, there wasn’t
all that much wax left floating on top of the water, and what was
there was starting to congeal.

I still probably had time for that last bowl
of ice cream before I went to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I
bolted upright in bed in pitch darkness, having barely survived a
dream where I was attacked by a giant feather duster that was
trying to choke me.

Esme barely stirred on the pillow beside me
as her tail flopped lazily toward where my face had just been.

It was going to take some time getting used
to sleeping with a cat in my bed, and I wondered when Heather would
come back for her charge.

I worried about my new friend, but there was
nothing I could do for her at the moment.

And in a few hours, I was going to have to
get up and prepare for another assault by Mrs. Jorgenson.