At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (8 page)

“
The salvage and recovery
gent? Truthfully, we haven’t had the opportunity to get to know one
another yet. He keeps pretty well to himself, and from what I’ve
seen, his office hours are only at night. Belle joked that he must
be some kind of vampire to work when he does. Well, I’d better
scat. Aaron Gaston has a leak in his sink, and potters are
absolutely anal about their water supply. Have you met Aaron
yet?”

“
No, is he the one who runs
The Pot Shot?”

“
He’s the man. An unusual
fellow, not somebody you’d pick out of the crowd as an artist, but
the gentleman is a true talent. He’s been teaching me pottery, or
at least attempting to. You should take lessons yourself, if you’re
interested, they’re quite reasonable. Fascinating hobby, pottery.
The clay has a mind of its own sometimes. Now if you’ll excuse me,
I’d better get to that sink.”

After Pearly was gone, I found myself
wondering how he’d known I’d had the lock replaced upstairs. Was he
being a good handyman, prepared to offer to replace it himself when
he spotted the new work, or had he tried to gain reentry to
continue his search and been foiled by the replacement? His offer
to look around Belle’s place could have been a friendly gesture, or
it could mean Pearly wasn’t ready to give up his search. I was
learning one thing—investigating Belle’s death was making me
suspicious of everyone in her life. It was amazing how many things
could be twisted when I started with that frame of reference.

My stomach was just starting to growl from
hunger when Heather from The New Age came in with a picnic basket.
“Harrison, how would you like to join me for lunch?”

“
That sounds great. Let me
check with Eve first, though, and make sure she doesn’t need me
here.”

After Eve assured me that I could take all
the time I needed, a little too enthusiastically for my taste, I
joined Heather at the door of At Wick’s End.

“
Does this mean you’re
free?” she asked.

“
I got the distinct
impression I’m not exactly crucial to At Wick’s End’s operation at
the moment.”

Heather laughed. “Oh, pooh, you’re just
learning, Harrison. These things take time.”

Outside, the autumn day was glorious, the
sunshine warm enough to enjoy but without the brutal heat and
intensity of summer. Though we were near the mountains, we still
got blistering summer temperatures nearly as much as Charlotte and
Hickory did. No doubt about it, autumn was my favorite time of
year. I loved to see the changing leaves decorate the world with
their pallets of color and taste the air scrubbed clean and fresh,
with just a hint of the chill to come.

I took in a deep breath, then asked Heather,
“So where should we eat?”

“
If you don’t mind the
concrete steps, I nearly always eat my lunch near the river. You
can’t imagine the things you see float by.”

“
That sounds good,” I said
as I followed her down the steps that led to the water.

After we found a spot we liked, Heather
opened her basket and pulled out sandwiches carefully wrapped in
brown paper. I took one offered and said, “I’m starving. What are
we eating?”

She held her wrapped sandwich up and said,
“I made us bean sprouts. They’re really great.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. What else
should I have expected from a hippie shop owner? I should have
realized that a club sandwich would be out of the question before I
agreed to come.

Trying to put the best face on things, I
promised myself I’d choke it down if I could and never accept
another invitation without knowing what was on the menu first.

I unwrapped the sandwich with no great
haste. “Hey, it’s ham on rye.”

Heather grinned impishly. “Dijon mustard
too. You should have seen your face when I told you it was bean
sprouts. What would you like to drink? I’ve got Dr Pepper and
Mountain Dew.”

I took the Dr Pepper and twisted the top off
the iced bottle. After taking a healthy swallow, I said, “Okay, I
admit that I might have misread you.”

Heather smiled brightly. “Then I’ll confess
to setting you up just then. I love bean sprouts, but I wasn’t
about to force my tastes on you, especially not during our first
shared meal. So what do you think of River’s Edge so far?”

I took a bite of my sandwich as I considered
the question. “It’s quite a collection, isn’t it?”

“
Of businesses or people?”
she asked.

“
To be honest with you,
both.”

Heather nodded. “That’s why I love it so
much. Not many nine-to-five types here, unless you count Gary
Cragg, and he’s an oddity in his own way.”

“
What do you mean?” I
asked.

She said, “My experience has been that most
lawyers cluster together near the courthouse. I’ve often wondered
what he’s doing out here by himself.” She took a bite from her
sandwich, then added, “If I’m being honest about it, it could just
be the suit I’ve got problems with. I’ve never been all that
impressed with anybody who has to wear a tie to work. I doubt Gary
has ever been on a picnic in his life.”

I smiled softly. “Maybe you should have
invited him instead of me.”

Heather shook her head. “I don’t think so,
Harrison. I made the right choice.”

I nodded my thanks. “I’m honored you
asked.”

A pair of mallard ducks swam by us near the
shore, pausing now and then to dive for something in the water.
Heather tossed a piece of her bread to them, and they attacked it
with zeal. I followed suit with the little that remained of my
sandwich, popping the last of the meat in my mouth as I threw the
bread. They waited around another minute after gobbling it down
just as quickly, realized the lunch counter was closed, then went
back to their fishing.

“
It’s really peaceful here,
isn’t it,” I said, mesmerized by the drifting currents of the
water.

“
It can be,” she replied.
“Hey, did you ever get rid of those boxes for the Salvation
Army?”

“
Not yet. I’ve been so busy
around the store, I haven’t had a chance.”

Heather put the last of the wrappings in her
basket as she said, “The offer’s still open if you need me to drop
them off for you.”

“
Thanks, I’ll keep that in
mind,” I said as I stood and stretched. The concrete had been a
hard seat, but I hadn’t realized how hard until I stood up. I
dusted off my hands and said, “I’ll have to return the favor
sometime soon. Thanks again for lunch,” I said as I walked back to
At Wick’s End.

“
You’re most welcome,” she
said. “I’m here every day at noon. Just let me know.”

After I was back inside the candle shop, I
couldn’t help wondering if Heather’s lunch invitation had been just
another way to get a crack at those boxes again, or if it was, as
it appeared, a friendly gesture welcoming me to the building. I
told myself, “Harrison, old boy, you’re going to have to stop
seeing villainous motives behind every action, or you’ll drive
yourself crazy.”

But how was I going to recognize something
that really was a clue, if I didn’t examine every action and motive
I ran across?

Detective work surely wasn’t as easy as they
made it look in books.

I found Eve in the office having a sandwich
of her own. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were eating,” I said as I
started to back out of the room.

She patted the chair across from her. “Sit,
keep me company. Belle and I always used to split our lunch breaks,
but if no one was in the shop, we’d share a bite or two
together.”

I sat where she directed. “You must really
miss her.”

Eve nodded. “It’s amazing how large a hole
somebody can leave in your life when they’re gone.” She stared at
the remains of her sandwich, took another bite, then said, “It’s
just not ever going to be the same around here.”

“
You know, you’re free to
go somewhere else if you’d like if it’s too painful,” I said
gently. I could see that I’d worded it badly by the way she
reacted, but before she could say a word of retort, I added, “Not
that I don’t appreciate you staying on. Eve, I’m the first person
to admit that I don’t know how I’d run the shop without you. But it
sounds like losing Belle might be more than you can take and stay
on here at the shop.”

Eve tossed the unfinished bite of her
sandwich in her bag, then threw the whole thing into the trash.
“I’m staying,” she said firmly.

“
Because you want to?” I
asked gently.

“
Because I have to,” Eve
blurted out. “I love candles. Where else am I going to be able to
find someone to pay me to be around them all day? I’ll go if you
want me to, Harrison, but it won’t be willingly. You might need a
little help throwing me out.”

“
Eve, you’ve got your job
as long as you want it,” I said. Now why did I say that? If she
turned out to be the one who had shoved Belle off that ladder,
she’d be gone as fast as I could turn her over to the police. But
until I knew without a doubt that she’d been the one, I needed
Eve’s presence at Wick’s End more than she needed me.

“
I’m glad that’s settled,”
Eve said as she brushed at a few nonexistent crumbs on the desktop.
“Now let’s get to work and teach you how to pour candles. It’s the
next logical step in your training.”

Unfortunately, it was not to be. We had a
steady stream of customers the rest of the afternoon, something Eve
told me was rare enough to savor. As before, I worked the register
while she helped our clientele, and by the time we put our closed
sign up, I was beat from standing on my feet all afternoon. That
was one good thing, probably the only good thing, about selling
those computers; most of the time I could do it sitting down behind
my desk.

As I turned the lock and pulled down the
door shade, I said, “Man, I’m beat.”

Eve said, “You can’t stop now, Harrison.
There’s more work that needs to be done before we’re ready to go
home.”

I smiled softly. “Point me in the right
direction and I’ll get to it.”

“
We need to restock the
shelves, total the day’s receipts, then you need to take our
deposit by the bank. I’ve done it when I’ve had to, but carrying
cash around town makes me nervous.”

It suddenly hit me that I knew nothing about
the ins and outs of running the place myself. “I don’t even know
how much money you make. When do you get paid? Do I cut you a check
myself or should I pay you in cash out of the register?”

Eve smiled. “Relax, Harrison, Belle had a
system in place before we opened our doors. Ann Marie Hart does our
bookkeeping. She’s the one who cuts my check, yours too if you keep
Belle’s system in place. Instead of taking money off the top, Belle
drew a salary just like I do, then she gave us both Christmas
bonuses every year.”

“
That sounds like a good
plan,” I said.

Eve added, “When we had good years, it
worked out quite nicely. Some of my bonuses at first were in the
form of supplies when she couldn’t afford to give me cash.”

I nodded. “It sounds like I need to talk to
Ann Marie.”

Eve creased her lips, and I asked, “Did I
say something wrong?”

“
No, but I may have jumped
the gun. I’ve already set up an appointment for you with her first
thing Monday morning. Don’t worry, you’ll be finished before Mrs.
Jorgenson gets here, Ann Marie’s an early riser, and she doesn’t
dawdle or waste time if she doesn’t have to.”

“
That works for me, but
until then, what do I do with our deposit tonight?”

“
I’ll show you how to
balance our receipts with the register tape,” she said.
“Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they match
perfectly.”

“
And if they
don’t?”

“
Then we order something
from Millie and stay here until they do.”

Amazing as it was given the fact that I’d
run the register most of the day, we balanced out to the penny.
After a quick lesson at logging the deposit and filling out the
slip, Eve said, “Now you’re ready to deposit this at the bank.”

“
Let me grab my truck
keys,” I said, “and I’ll take it right now.”

“
Why don’t you take Belle’s
truck? It’s yours now too.”

That certainly got my attention. “Are you
telling me my great-aunt had a truck?”

Eve said, “In this business, you need one,
believe me. We do more than just the shop, Harrison. There are
street fairs, demonstrations, all sorts of times where you’ll be on
the road representing At Wick’s End. Mr. Young should have
mentioned it to you.”

“
Where is this mystery
truck?” I asked.

“
Behind the building parked
in Belle’s spot. I guess that’s yours too now.”

I pocketed the keys to my old Dodge Ram, a
pickup truck on its last legs, and followed Eve outside, the
zippered deposit bag tucked under my arm. There was a two-tone
brown Ford pickup with a brown camper top over the long bed parked
in back of the store. “Wow, she’s a beauty,” I said the second I
saw it.

“
It’s nearly ten years old,
but Belle babied it,” Eve said as she handed me the keys. “Don’t
forget, we bank with Micah’s Ridge Community Bank. None of those
big corporate conglomerates for Belle. She believed in doing
business with local folks whenever she could manage it.”

I nodded absently and unlocked the truck.
There were running boards on the side, no doubt to help Belle step
up into the cab. This was a luxury addition, with carpeting,
automatic transmission, cruise control and even four-wheel drive.
“Unbelievable. Belle was just full of surprises, wasn’t she?”