A Flicker of Doubt (Book 4 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (4 page)

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard
Markum make since I’d known him.

“
I am,” I said.

Markum smiled. “Why do you think I brought
you with me? Now let’s go see if we can find out what Cyrus Walters
is up to.”

I pulled up in front of the huge house, but
it had changed somehow since I’d been there last. The place was
starting to look ratty around the edges, with weeds growing in the
front yard and one section of the porch rail gone.

“
You’d better let me tackle
him alone,” I said. “He’s a little uncomfortable around
visitors.”

Markum said, “I understand. Just yell if you
need me.”

“
I’m sure it’s not as bad as
it looks,” I said. Even though I’d been there before, I felt my
pulse quicken as I approached the front door. What was I going to
find inside?

Chapter 3

I knew enough not to bother with the
doorbell. It had broken long ago, and Cyrus wasn’t a big fan of
visitors anyway, so he had made a conscious decision not to have it
repaired. I was expecting the door to be locked, but when I rapped
loudly on it, it swung open, revealing a dark interior, though the
day was quite sunny.

“
Hello? Cyrus? Is anyone
there?”

No reply. I glanced bade at Markum, who was
lost in something he was reading. No help there.

I stepped inside, a knot growing in the pit
of my stomach with every step I took. I was in the grand foyer, a
marble staircase in front of me and parlors to the left and right
“Cyrus?”

“
Go away,” a voice called
from the left

“
It’s me, Harrison
Black.”

Harrison? What are you doing here?” There
was still no sign of the man. .

“
Can I come in?” I asked, a
ridiculous question since I was already standing inside his
home.

“
Stay right where you are. I
can hear you from there,” he said.

“
Come on, Cyrus, this will
just take a second. We need to talk.”

There was a long pause, then Cyrus said, “If
you - can’t abide by my wishes, then I’m going to have to ask you
to leave. I mean it, Harrison.”

I worried about the eccentric old man, but I
couldn’t afford to be thrown out before I had the chance to ask him
my questions. “This is fine,” I said. “Can I ask you something,
Cyrus?”

“
You may, if you stay in the
entry,” he said.

“
I had a strange visit from
a developer named Runion. Have you been talking to him about
selling your land near River’s Edge?”

“
I’m sorry, but you’re going
to have to go.” His voice was flat and tired, and the dismissal in
his tone was readily apparent.

I couldn’t just give up without a fight,
though. “Cyrus, I need to talk to you.”

“
No,” he said, more
emphatically this time.

I hated being someplace where I wasn’t
welcome, but I had no choice. “Can I at least come back later?”

There was no answer, so I added, “I’m going
to take that as a yes. Cyrus, can I bring you anything? I’m worried
about you, my friend.”

There was still no response, so I finally
left. As I stood on the stoop outside, the door, I wondered if I
should lock the place up behind me. But then I realized that Cyrus
had most likely left it unlocked himself, no doubt hoping for
someone more welcome than I was. I ended up settling for pulling
the door shut again as I left

Markum looked up as I walked to the truck.
“Did you have any luck?” he asked.

“
No, he won’t talk to me.” I
brought him up-to-date on what had happened inside. Markum thought
about it a moment then said, “And you say he’s never acted this way
toward you before?”

“
I don’t understand it It’s
not like we were best friends, but this is ridiculous. We’ve had a
hundred conversations, and it’s always been
face-to-face.”

Markum said, “I’m afraid it can’t mean
anything good for you, then.”

“
Why do you say
that?”

Markum scratched his broad chin. “Well, if
he is thinking about selling out to Runion, he’s bound to realize
how it will affect you. That’s probably why he doesn’t want to face
you. Most likely he doesn’t have the nerve to tell you
directly.”

I started the truck, then said, “I hope
you’re wrong.”

“
So do I,” Markum said. “Are
you ready for our next move?”

“
What did you have in
mind?”

He smiled and-said, “I’m in the mood for a
little breaking and entering; how about you?”

That depends. What did you have in
mind?”

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “We
need to get into Becka’s place and root around some if we’re going
to dig into her life. I’m sorry, Harrison, but there’s no other way
to do it I’ve got to believe that if there’s something to discover
that made this happen, we’ll find it in her apartment”

I’d never really thought about our next
step, but he had a point. If we were going to figure out what had
led up to her death, we were going to have to be bold.

I drove to Becka’s new place, the one she’d
chosen after leaving her old apartment because of a stalker. I’d
been there once, picking her up for pizza. It was the last time I’d
seen her alive, and I had to stop myself from taking that path in
my mind.

On the way, Markum said, “I haven’t popped a
lock in years. I hope I still remember how.”

“
You may not need to. I’ve
got a better idea.”

He shrugged. “Unless you know where she hid
the key, I doubt they’re going to let us just waltz in there.”

“
We’ll see,” I said as I
drove to her place. “If my idea doesn’t work, we’ll try yours.” I
pulled up in one of Becka’s reserved slots and we walked over to
her apartment.

Markum said, “I was kidding about the key.
Don’t tell me she left one under her mat”

“
No, but she used to leave
one outside at her last place. Becka was always losing her key, and
she had a pretty cool place to keep a spare.” There was an old
fashioned knocker mounted on her door, one made of shiny brass,
though the handle was slightly tarnished. “Great,” I said, the
second I saw it “She had it installed here, too. It wasn’t up the
last time I was here.”

“
You’re happy Becka put up a
brass door-knocker?” he asked.

I reached underneath its edge, pressed a
small hidden slide and part of the knocker’s base popped open.
Inside it was a key that I hoped was a match to her current lock
and not the last

Markum studied the mechanism, then said,
“I’ve never seen one of these before.”

“
She used to date a
locksmith, and he rigged it for her since she was always misplacing
her keys. If you don’t know the slide is there, you’d never find
it. I’m just glad she had time to stock it with a key. Let’s get
inside before somebody comes out to check on us.”

“
If that’s the right key,”
Markum said.

“
I’m not even going to
acknowledge that that’s a possibility.” I held my breath as I slid
the key into place and was relieved when the door swung open.
Markum and I slipped inside, then I returned the key to its hiding
place and locked the door behind us from the inside.

Going through Becka’s place was tougher than
I imagined it would be. While she had always been perfectly
attired, Becka’s apartment was a continuing disaster area. Clothes
were thrown all over the place, dirty dishes were still in the sink
and there was a pile of mail spread across a tabletop near the
door.

“
Somebody got here before
us,” Markum said.

“
No, this is the way Becka
kept house.”

Markum didn’t say another word, but he did
pull a pair of thin rubber gloves from his pocket. After he put his
on, he tossed me another pair. “Don’t worry, these are
latex-free.”

“
Do you really think this is
necessary?”

“
Harrison, the last thing
you want is for our friendly neighborhood sheriff to get interested
in this case and start collecting fingerprints. You told him you
hadn’t seen her in a month, remember? Do you want to explain why
your fresh prints are all over her apartment? Remind me to wipe off
that key and door-knocker before we go.”

I put the gloves on, hating how my hands
began to sweat almost immediately. “Don’t worry,” he said, “You get
used to it after a while.”

“
You’ve done this before,
haven’t you?”

He said, “Let’s just say it’s come up in the
past Now let’s see if we can find out what she’s been up to. Becka
didn’t keep a diary, did she? It might save us some time.”

“
If she did, I never knew
about it”

Markum nodded as he moved to the mail and
started riffling through it “Okay, we’ll do this the old-fashioned
way. You take the bedroom and I’ll look around out here. When we’re
finished, we’ll trade off in case one of us misses something.” It
was a nice way for Markum to search the entire apartment without
hurting my feelings, but I didn’t mind. No doubt he had a great
deal more experience doing this than I did.

As Markum started on the kitchen, pulling
everything from the shelves and looking inside every box, can and
container, I walked back to the bedroom. It was just as much a
wreck as the rest of the place, but that didn’t mean anything. I
fought the urge to start cleaning up, then realized that if
something was on the floor under the piles of clothes, books and
magazines, I’d never find it As I hung each dress and blouse back
in the closet, I took the time to look through any pockets I could
find. Going through her clothes, I remembered the large purse she
always carried with her. Where was it, anyway? As I continued
searching the bedroom, I kept looking for it, but I didn’t have any
luck. Once the clothes were hung up and the books and magazines
were stacked in one corner, I had a better idea of what I was
dealing with. The drawers of her dresser were just as unorganized
as the rest of her place. I had no way of knowing whether anyone
else had been there before us. There wasn’t much of interest there,
but I did find the torn corner of a photograph tucked inside the
mirror frame, just enough left to hold it in place. It was of a
clearing in some woods, filled with dead brown kudzu vines. There
was a shape at one edge, maybe a barrel or a bucket covered in the
dead vines, but I didn’t have any idea what that might mean. I
turned the photo over to see if there was anything, written on
back, but it was blank. Then I noticed a slight, hard to read
imprint that had a date on it just four days old. I quickly glanced
around the rest of the dresser space, but if the companion
photographs from that roll were in the bedroom, they were hidden
better than I could hope to find.

All in all, it was a rather unsuccessful
search, so I went looking for Markum to see if he’d had any more
luck than I’d had.

He saw me and said, “Good, I was just about
to check on you.”

“
Did you find anything?” I
asked.

“
I’m not sure yet Listen to
this.” He hit the replay button on her answering machine and I
heard a man’s angry voice. “Becka, I don’t care what you say, it’s
not over. I can’t live without you.” There was a ragged pause, then
he added, “You’re not getting away from me that easily, I promise
you.”

“
Who was that?” I asked, my
skin cold from the sound of the voice.

“
I’d say it was Becka’s
ex-boyfriend. Do you know who she dated after you?”

“
Do you think I kept a log?
Markum, I didn’t even know she was going out with
anybody.”

“
Take it easy, I was just
asking. This character doesn’t sound like he takes rejection well,
does he?’

“
How in the world are we
going to find out who he is?”

Markum popped the tape out of the answering
machine and said, “I know a guy who might be able to help us.”

“
Should we really be taking
that?” I asked as I gestured to his pocket

Markum sighed. “Harrison, the police don’t
care; the sheriff himself told you that”

“
Yeah, you’re right I guess
I just feel creepy being here digging through her
things.”

He said, “You can wait out in the truck if
you want, I don’t mind. Really.”

“
No, I’ll stay.”

He accepted that, then asked, “Did you find
anything?”

I held out the edge of the photograph and he
studied it a few moments.

I asked, “So what do you think it
means?”

“
I don’t have a clue,” he
said as he stuffed it in his pocket along with the cassette.
“Listen, are you ready to trade? I was about to check the living
room, but you can have that if you want”

“
Sure, that’s fine.” As
Markum left me to retrace my steps, I looked through the small
living room. There was a coffee table pulled next to one of the
chairs. The table was covered with opened newspapers and a pair of
scissors. I started looking through the papers until I found the
only cut-out in the pile. An article about the size of an index
card was cut from last week’s paper. I folded the sheet and stuck
it in my pocket, wondering what she’d thought was important enough
to cut out. It meant a trip to the Gunpowder Gazette—a newspaper I
detested—but I was willing to put my feelings aside if it meant
finding out what had happened to Becka.

I finished up with the living room,
straightening the place up as I searched. Markum poked his head out
of the bedroom, holding up a folded sheet of paper. “You missed
something,” he said, smiling.