Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (6 page)

He wasn’t going to get rid of me that
easily. “My name’s Harrison Black. I wanted to come by and tell you
I’m sorry for your loss.”

He nodded. “I’m Jubal Grant. Of course I
know you; you’re the owner of At Wick’s End. It’s a delightful
shop; I’ve been there a time or two myself. Pearly speaks quite
highly of you.”

“
You know Pearly?” What did
my handyman have to do with any of this?

“
Of course I do. I thought
you knew. He and Gretel were quite an item; they had been for some
time. In fact, he helped us set up here. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t
have said anything. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

“
No, that’s fine. Pearly’s
free to do whatever he wants in his free time. I’m just surprised
he didn’t say anything to me about it before.”

“
He’s the one who called and
told me about Gretel. I understand you were there when it
happened.”

Great. “I don’t know what he said, but—”

“
Please, I’ve already heard
the rumors, but I don’t believe you had anything to do with
Gretel’s death, Mr. Black. Pearly agreed with me that it was a
preposterous notion. She was feeling the pressure of your presence
in Micah’s Ridge, but I’m sure it wasn’t personal. I can’t imagine
anyone seriously thinking you had anything to do with what happened
to her today.”

“
Excuse my asking, but how
well did you know her?”

He sighed. “Too well. I’m not just an errant
employee, if that’s what you’re asking. Gretel was my second
cousin. I suppose I’ll have to deal with the funeral arrangements
since her brother Hans isn’t here, but I don’t want to have to
think about that now. I came back to the candleshop when the police
called me. What a nightmare. The sheriff was most intrusive, asking
all sorts of questions. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help. Gretel and I
had been drifting apart over the years. She called me last month to
come help her with the candleshop, and I thought it would give us a
chance to get reacquainted. I’m retired myself, but Micah’s Ridge
sounded delightful, so I agreed to help out. I don’t know what I’m
going to do now.”

“
Do you have any idea who
might have killed her?”

Jubal said, “Sheriff Morton asked me that
same question. I haven’t a clue who would want her dead. Gretel was
so alive, do you know what I mean? And now her life’s been snuffed
out like an errant candlewick.” He dabbed at a tear, then said,
“She always said I was too dramatic. I’ll miss so much about
her.”

“
So what happens to the shop
now?” I asked.

“
I don’t have a clue. I
suspect all of her worldly goods were tied up in it. I suppose it
will all go to her brother. She and Hans were estranged, but as
twins, there was a real bond between them.”

“
Their parents named them
Hans and Gretel?” The cruelty of some people when they named their
children astounded me.

“
I admit, it was a difficult
time for them growing up. As if their being fraternal twins wasn’t
enough reason for them to stand out. Honestly, I don’t even know
how to find Hans. He dropped out of sight a dozen years ago, and no
one in the family has seen him since. It’s been thirty years since
I’ve laid eyes on the man myself.”

“
There’s no one
else?”

He shook his head. “Our line is a dying
branch of the family tree. Besides Hans, I’m all that’s left.”

I couldn’t think of anything more to say, so
I said, “If there’s anything I can do, let me know, okay?”

Jubal shook my hand. “That’s quite kind of
you, Harrison. I may take you up on your generous offer later,
after I’ve had a chance to find out where things stand. Thank you
for stopping by.”

I was at the door when Jubal said, “I just
thought of something. It’s probably nothing, but we got the
strangest telephone call yesterday. It upset Gretel quite a
bit.”

“
Do you know who was
calling?”

Jubal shook his head. “No, but I did hear
something Gretel said. I’m not even sure I heard her correctly, I
was standing six feet away. As I said, it’s probably nothing.”

“
What did she say?” I
asked.

He hesitated, then said, “I remember
thinking how odd it was. I could have sworn she said, ‘I’m not your
wife,’ but Gretel never married. I must have misunderstood
her.”

“
Well, if you think of
anything else, let me know.”

Jubal said, “Am I correct in assuming you’re
looking into what happened to Gretel yourself?”

“
I need to clear my name,” I
said simply.

“
Of course, I understand.
I’m willing to help you in whatever way I can, Harrison. Believe
me, I know from experience that rumors can be fatal.”

Chapter 5

When I got back to my apartment at River’s
Edge, there were twenty-seven messages waiting for me on my
machine. I couldn’t face listening to them, though. I grabbed a
jacket and headed up the secret hatch tucked away in my closet. As
I climbed the rungs to the roof, I was glad no one else in the
world had access to my hideaway. With twilight fading, the air was
shifting from brisk to downright cold on the rooftop overlooking
the Gunpowder River, but I was willing to put up with the
plummeting temperatures to get away from the world for a while. I
took out my lawn chair from the storage box and grabbed a heavy
blanket. The wind had blown out the clouds, leaving a night sky
filled with stunning starlight. We were far enough from Micah’s
Ridge to avoid most of the direct illumination, and when Pearly and
I had installed lights around the complex, I’d made sure none of
them interfered with my stargazing. Thinking of Pearly made me
wonder what my handyman had been up to lately. The fact that he’d
been dating and supporting my main competition was something I had
a hard time getting used to. I’d thought Pearly was one of my
staunchest allies at River’s Edge, always there when I needed him,
but I was beginning to wonder if I’d misplaced my trust in him. Had
that been what he’d wanted to talk to me about at the fair? Was he
having a guilty conscience about his relationship with Gretel? I
wasn’t sure how I was going to act toward him after the revelation
that he’d been dating her. If I couldn’t trust Pearly, then who
could I trust? Who could I talk to about the churning issues
stirring in my mind? As I sat there mulling over my dour thoughts,
I began to think that solitude might not be the best thing for me
at the moment. So where was there to turn to for a willing ear? I
would have knocked on Markum’s door, but he was away on one of his
mysterious salvage and recovery trips. There was Millie, the woman
who so ably ran The Crocked Pot. She was a good listener, but no
doubt she was off somewhere enjoying time with her husband George.
Heather had shown signs of roller-coaster reactions to things that
had happened in the past, so I really didn’t want to discuss the
day’s events with her, and Gary Cragg was a man I doubted I’d ever
be able to trust. Sanora, our resident potter, was becoming a
friend, but I still didn’t know her well enough to open up
completely. Erin was off on an expedition, leading a group of
rafters on a trip down the New River in West Virginia. I’d met her
the first time I’d tried a kayak at her business, and there was
definitely a spark between us, but that didn’t mean I could bare my
soul to her just yet, either. That left my mechanic and friend
Wayne, but he was giving all of his attention lately to the new
lady in his life. Though I’d acquired an entire new roster of
friends with the addition of River’s Edge to my life, there really
was no one around I could talk to.

The stars, at least for the moment, had lost
their pull for me, and the cold, biting wind just reinforced the
fact that I was alone. I put the chair and blanket away feeling the
chill of the night, and headed down to my apartment. Once I was
back in the warmth, the flashing light of the answering machine
caught my eye again, and I knew I’d have to sift through the
messages before I’d be able to get to sleep that night. Curiosity
was a curse of mine, one I’d had no luck breaking in the past. The
light now read twenty-eight; someone must have called while I’d
been up on the roof.

Most of the messages were as I’d
expected—people calling demanding to know if I’d really killed
Gretel, reporters asking for interviews and a few folks even
defending my honor—but the last message struck me as the oddest of
the lot.

“
Candles soon burn out,” was
all the caller said in a whispered, gravelly voice.

Now what in the world did that mean? Was
somebody trying to be funny, or was it some kind of veiled threat?
I reached to hit the save button so I could replay it for the
sheriff, but my finger slipped off it and hit the delete key
instead; so much for preserving it for further study. Why would
anyone threaten me like that? It was a little too creepy for my
taste. I wished I’d saved it for Morton to hear, but now I couldn’t
even mention it to him. Knowing the sheriff, he’d probably think my
accidental erasure was just a little too convenient, since I
couldn’t back the claim up with anything other than my word. If any
of the other messages I’d accidentally deleted were important, I
just had to hope that they’d call back when they didn’t hear from
me.

As I tried to sleep, my thoughts kept
returning to what tomorrow would bring. I couldn’t get comfortable
in my bed as my mind raced back to the unwelcome sight of Gretel
collapsing, slow motion, over and over again. I was almost ready to
give up on sleep when it came unexpectedly.

I might have been better off staying awake.
All night the reel kept playing over and over again in my mind, and
I was in no shape to face the day when my alarm finally went
off.

I’d prepared myself to face a mob at the
candleshop, but twenty minutes before opening, there wasn’t a soul
in sight, including Eve. I’d skipped my ritual breakfast at The
Crocked Pot, not wanting to face any strangers I didn’t have to.
Instead, I’d heated a few frozen waffles upstairs and lingered in
the apartment, puttering around as the time crept by before finally
heading down to At Wick’s End. It was Sunday, and we didn’t open
until noon, so I had a lot of time to kill. Ordinarily I’d take my
kayak out on the water—regardless of the cold—or go for a walk, or
even go down to the candleshop and practice some new technique, but
I was in no mood for any of my options.

Though it was nearly eleven
when I finally stepped outside for the first time that day, the
weather had turned back to the cold we normally expected for late
fall in our part of North Carolina, and I was glad for my jacket
even in my brief commute from my apartment upstairs to the
candleshop below.

As I hung my coat up in the office, I
glanced at the schedule and realized that Eve wasn’t due to come in
at all that day. It looked like I was going to have to face the
crowds alone. As I busied myself preparing to open the store, the
telephone started to ring, but I wasn’t about to answer it until I
had to. Unfortunately, by noon it still hadn’t given up, and it was
time to unlock the doors.

Bracing myself, I walked to the door and
pulled the blinds back.

No one was there.

I opened the door with more relief than I
should have felt and peeked outside. Not a solitary soul was
loitering anywhere nearby. While I was happy none of the pests from
the day before had shown up, the fact that none of my regular
customers were there either took the edge off my temporary joy.
Sunday was normally a big day for us, but it was looking bleak from
the start. So was this going to be it? Would Gretel manage to carry
out her threat in death, to bury me and my candleshop?

The ringing telephone pulled me back into
the shop, and my hand shook as I answered it.

“
At Wick’s End,” I
said.

“
Harrison Black, I was
worried something had happened to you. I’ve been calling since ten
thirty.”

“
Hi, Eve. I’m
here.”

I could hear her take a deep breath, then
she said, “Harrison, I realize I’m not scheduled to work today, but
I don’t think you should be alone. Are you crushed with people
today?”

I looked around the empty shop. “It’s
nothing I can’t handle.”

“
Don’t put up a brave front
for me, I know how overwhelming it was yesterday. I’m coming
in.”

It was time to come clean. “Eve, there’s not
a soul in sight. It looks like we’re already yesterday’s news.”

She hesitated, then said, “Oh dear, I was
afraid of that, too. I gather you haven’t read The Gunpowder
Gazette yet.”

“
I forgot all about it. How
bad is it?”

“
They didn’t overtly name
you as the killer, but they did everything else. I’m afraid it’s
quite nasty in its quiet little way.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Well, at least that
explains why I’m by myself. I’m going to go over to Millie’s and
buy a newspaper.”

“
I wouldn’t if I were
you.”

I shrugged. “If they are going to be lying
about me, I want to know what they’re saying.”

“
Would you like me to come
in, if nothing else, for moral support?”

“
No, but thanks for asking.
I’ll need you tomorrow for a full day, at least if Mrs. Jorgenson
keeps her lesson. Enjoy today off. I know I would.”

“
Harrison, ordinarily I’d
never suggest this, but you could just close the candleshop for a
few days until things calm down.”

“
Eve, this isn’t going to
blow over, and I’m not going to hide or run away. I didn’t do
anything. I’m going to be right here at the candleshop, where I
belong.”