Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (27 page)

Themed candles are fun for holidays,
birthdays and any special occasion. Craft stores have a variety of
small objects that do well added to a gel wax pour. We’ve done
themes with semiprecious stones, marbles, pretty gravel, colored
sand and other items we already had on hand.

An assortment of coins buried into the gel
wax make a good theme. Costume jewelry and anything that can stand
the heat of the pour are good choices as well.

Handcrafted Candle Stands and Bases

Sometimes the way a candle is displayed is
more important than the candle itself. Just about anything that
will hold a candle upright can be crafted into a base. In the past,
I’ve made candleholders out of papier-mâché, flower pots and even
punched tin. I’ve found that recycled jars and bottles also make
perfect candleholders.

Using a little creativity, you can customize
your base to the occasion. For Halloween, decorate jars with
ghosts, goblins and full moons after painting the glass black. To
make a specialized holder for Christmas, a red or green base
frosted with flocking makes a perfect centerpiece. Remember,
though, that anything you put close to the candle’s wick needs to
be fireproof!

I’ve also seen fruit carved out to hold
candles at parties. The only limit is your own imagination, so have
fun and experiment.

And now a peek at A Flicker Of Doubt, book 4
in the Candlemaking mysteries by Tim Myers.

A Flicker Of
Doubt

By Tim Myers

Chapter 1

As my kayak brushed against the woman’s
body, I thought I’d hit another half-submerged log. The Gunpowder
River was full of all kinds of debris, washed there from the banks
in the heavy rains that had assaulted us over the past two weeks.
Paddling through the water was more like an obstacle course than
the smooth river I usually found on my excursions.

It wasn’t until I looked closer that I
realized what I’d brushed up against

In a moment of panic I dropped my
double-bladed paddle, but I managed to catch it again before it
skittered off the sleek surface of the boat and into the water.
Without it, I’d be hopelessly adrift “Harrison, what’s wrong?” I
looked over on shore and saw Markum, a big bear of a man with wild
black hair and the look of an ogre about him, standing near the
concrete steps that led down to the water in front of the complex.
It was funny how he had become one of my best friends in the world.
To the casual eye, we had nothing in common; no mutual interests to
forge the friendship we had found nonetheless. Markum based his
business at River’s Edge—my converted warehouse that featured
retail shops downstairs and offices upstairs. My apartment was the
only living space on the second floor, and it was perched above my
candleshop, At Wick’s End.

My name is Harrison Black, and my Great-Aunt
Belle had left me the entire place, including At Wick’s End, along
with a hefty mortgage and a caveat not to sell the place for five
years, not that I had any intention of ever parting with it. The
people of River’s Edge had become family to me.

I could hardly bear to bring myself to look.
“There’s a body floating in the water,” I shouted inanely. “She’s
dead. What should I do?”

Markum considered it for a moment, then
said, “I could call the sheriff, but it’s hard to tell how far the
body will drift by the time he gets here. Do you have any rope with
you?”

“
Yes,” I admitted
reluctantly, understanding instantly what he had in mind. I was a
candlemaker by trade, so the worst things I had to deal with in my
business were wax bums and nasty customers; nothing in my life had
prepared me for what I was facing. Markum-was a self-proclaimed
expert in salvage and recovery, though I’d never been able to pin
him down much more than that on what he did from day to day. He
didn’t sound at all panicked by the situation, but then again, he
was standing safely on shore while I was the one drifting six
inches from the lifeless body.

“
Harrison, you’ve got to
bring her in,” he said.

“
I know that,” I shouted a
little harsher than I meant to. I wasn’t sure if I was up to the
task, but I didn’t really have a choice. I couldn’t exactly ask
Markum to swim out there and get her himself.

I reached behind me and retrieved the rope I
kept on board to tie the kayak up while I went exploring some of
the Gunpowder River’s coves. I was going to have to get a new
tether after this. There was no way I’d ever be able to use it
again once this was over. After I had the rope in my hand, I
wondered how I was going to tie it to the body securely enough to
pull her to shore.

Markum called out, “I hate to bring this up,
but you’re drifting away at a pretty good clip. You can stare at it
all you want to, but it’s not going to get any easier.”

I hated it, but I knew he was right. Judging
from the general area where I’d found her, if I waited much longer,
I might not be able to pull her weight through the water back
upstream. And if she got away from me and drifted swiftly down the
river, I’d be haunted by the memory that I’d let it happen. Where
could I attach the rope, though? Should I tie it to her hand? I
shuddered at the thought. No way. How about her leg? That was too
gruesome to even consider. There was a belt on her dress, maybe it
would hold until I got her to shore. I hastily pulled my rope
through it and tied it off. My hand had brushed against her waist
by accident, and I nearly dropped the rope as the body bobbed
gently from my touch. With a grim determination, I started paddling
backward toward the steps of the complex.

I’d covered less than a dozen feet when my
load suddenly got lighter, Blast it all. The belt had come off and
I could see the woman drifting downstream again. I paddled back
toward her, not daring to look at Markum.

For some reason I was furious with him,
probably because he was safely on land and I was wrestling with
this body.

I approached her again, then I saw to my
horror that when the belt had come loose, it had somehow flipped
her over in the water.

Staring down at a stranger would have been
bad enough, but I knew this woman and knew her all too well.

It was Becka Lane, my ex-girlfriend. Her
lustrous blonde hair was fanned out around her head in the water
like a halo, and the peaceful expression on her face looked more
like she was sleeping than dead. Her dress had bunched up near her
waist when the belt had come loose, and I had to fight the urge to
pull the errant material back down over her legs.

“
Harrison,” Markum yelled
from the shore. “You have to get moving.”

I ignored him.

Poor Becka. What had led her to this? I
hadn’t seen her in nearly a month, but I still felt as though she
were a part of my life. We’d gone from dating to animosity to
friendship, and I was going to miss not having her around. She had
become a presence in my life, and her death was going to leave a
hole that might never be filled. In my mind, I could suddenly hear
the essence of her laughter and feel the soft tenderness in her
touch as I stared down at her.

I did my best to choke back my emotions. I
couldn’t grieve yet. I had a job to do. Trying not to think about
what I was doing, I tied the tope around Becka’s chest I nearly
fell in as I pushed the rope under her shoulder blades, but I
managed to steady myself at the last second.

It was miserable towing her back to the
steps, but somehow I managed it. I didn’t even realize I was crying
until I tried to speak to Markum.

“
It’s Becka,” I managed
between sobs as I climbed out of the kayak and slumped onto the
lowest exposed step just above the waterline. Becka’s body was
tugging insistently against my boat in the current, and I had to
hold onto the kayak to keep everything from drifting downriver. I
knew I should pull Becka in, but I didn’t have the heart to touch
her.

Markum patted my shoulder and said,
“Harrison, I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then added, “Millie came out
while you were paddling in. She called the police, so they should
be on their way.” Millie Nelson, a plus-sized woman with brown hair
and soft gray eyes, ran The Crocked Pot Cafe, a place where I took
most of my meals.

True to the promise, I heard sirens in the
distance. I started tugging on the rope to pull Becka out of the
water when Markum said, “You’d better leave her there and let the
police handle it.”

I nodded numbly, and he started to stand
when I grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t go. Please.”

Markum settled back down beside me on the
step. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,”

Sheriff Morton, a tall man with a ruddy
complexion and a mop of brown hair, came rushing down the steps
toward us a minute later. “What happened?’

Markum said softly, “She was in the water.
It’s Becka Lane. Harrison used to date her, so take it easy on
him.”

Morton’s face softened. “I know. Sony, I
didn’t know who it was.” Two of his men arrived just behind him,
and they carefully pulled the body out of the water and onto the
bottom step. What happened after that was lost to me. I felt the
sheriff grab one arm and Markum the other as they pulled me to my
feet. I didn’t care if the kayak drifted away. The way I felt at
the moment, I was never going out on the water again.

The sheriff shouted to one of his men to
pull the kayak up onto the steps as Markum led me to Millie’s
place.

Morton released my arm and asked, “Are you
all right?”

I managed to nod, but I couldn’t bring
myself to make eye contact. It must have satisfied him, though,
because he left me to rejoin his deputies.

Millie stepped in as she wrapped an arm
around my shoulder. “Come on, Harrison, let’s get you
upstairs.”

Markum took a step back, deferring to
her.

“
Could I have some coffee
first?” I asked. “I need something strong.” The truth was that I
didn’t want to be alone, but the coffee would be welcome as
well.

“
Of course,” she said, “Come
into the cafe I’ll fix you right up.”

I walked inside, nearly stumbling as I
crossed the threshold. I was surprised by Millie’s strength in
righting me. She led me to a table near the back, and Markum joined
me. Millie returned in a minute with three cups of coffee and I
felt the liquid burn as I gulped it down. We sat in silence, each
of my friends giving me space, but staying close by in case I
needed either one of them.

After a while, Markum looked outside toward
the river and said, “It looks like they’re finally finished out
there. Are you ready to go upstairs now?”

“
I’m feeling better” I said
as I stared into the last dregs of my cup. As I pushed it away, I
added, “I have to open the candleshop.”

Markum said, “Harrison, you’ve just had a
tremendous shock. Close the blasted place up for a day, or a week
if you need to. Your customers will understand.”

“
And what do I do in the
meantime? Should I hang around my apartment feeling bad about what
happened to her?” I asked him. “Becka was my friend. Who am I
trying to kid? She was a lot more than that to me, at least at one
time. I’m sorry she’s gone, but there’s nothing I can do for her
anymore.” I was surprised to find myself crying again as I
spoke.

Markum looked surprised by my outburst, but
Millie just patted my shoulder with a comforting touch. “Why don’t
you at least let Eve handle things this morning? You can work after
lunch if you feel up to it.”

I shook my head, wiping at the tears that
betrayed my words. “I can’t. She’s not coming in until this
afternoon.”

Millie wasn’t about to let it go, though.
“So we’ll call her at home. You know she’ll pitch in if you ask her
to help you.”

I started to protest when Millie added,
“Please, will you do it for me? You need to take some time to
accept this.”

I was still struggling with the suggestion
when the sheriff walked in and sat down heavily at our table,
blowing out a bellow of air as he did.

Millie asked him, “Can I get you
something?”

“
I wouldn’t say no to a cup
of coffee. I’ve been up all night, and I’m starting to feel
it”

She left to get his coffee, and Markum said
to me,

“
Harrison, if you need me,
I’ll be over there.” He and the sheriff had a heavy dose of natural
animosity between them, and they would never willingly be together
anywhere, not even to support me.

After the sheriff and I were alone, Morton
asked gently, “Are you up to talking about this?”

I nodded. “We might as well get it over
with. I was kayaking this morning before I had to open the
candleshop. It was a good day to be out; the rain had finally
broken, and the sun was coming out There was a lot of junk that had
been washed into the water, though. At first I thought I’d hit a
log, but then I saw it was a woman’s body. I didn’t realize it was
Becka until she flipped over. I managed to tow her to shore. That’s
when Millie called you.” I stared down into my empty coffee mug,
then asked, “Do you have any idea what happened to her?”

He shook his head as he played with the
sugar dispenser in front of him. “There were no obvious signs of
trauma, so they’re going to have to look harder. She hasn’t been in
the water long, maybe an hour or two at the most, from the look of
her.”

“
So you don’t have any idea
at all what could have happened?” I asked.

Morton said, “That’s right I don’t know, and
I’m not about to start guessing. I’ll let the coroner figure it
out, and then we’ll go from there.” He paused, then asked gently,
“When’s the last time you saw her, Harrison?”