Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (2 page)

She rushed toward me, then glanced back at
the door. “That man...he’s back. He’s after me. Harrison, you’ll
protect me, won’t you?”

“
Protect you from what?” I
looked out the bay window in front of the shop, but I couldn’t see
anyone nearby. “Becka, there’s nobody out there. What are you
talking about?”

She nearly screamed. “Go look for yourself.
I’m telling you, he’s out there.”

I picked up a large wrought-iron candle
stand by the door and walked out of the shop, scanning the parking
lot and walkway in front of the complex. Aside from an elderly
couple looking in the windows of the new antique shop and a group
of young women going into The Pot Shot pottery, there was no one
around.

At I came back inside, Becka grabbed my
shoulder. “Did you see him? Did you?”

“
Nobody’s out there,” I
said.

“
Harrison, he must have
ducked into one of the shops. I’ve never seen his face; he always
hides in the shadows. I’m telling you, he was there a minute
ago.”

I led her to the office in back, offered her
my chair, then took Eve’s regular seat. “You need to take a deep
breath and tell me what’s been happening.” Becka wasn’t my favorite
ex-girlfriend, not after I’d learned about her argument with my
late Great-Aunt Belle just before she’d died, but we’d meant
something to each other once, and I couldn’t turn my back on that.
It would have probably been easier to help a stranger, someone I
had no history with, but regardless of what had gone on before
between us, I couldn’t abandon her now.

“
It started last week,” she
said softly. “At first I thought it was just my imagination, but I
kept getting this creepy feeling that I was being watched, you
know? He’s not going to be content just shadowing me, I realize
that now. He’s trying to engage me in something, but I don’t know
what to do about it.”

“
Are you saying he’s done
something more direct?” I asked.

“
Harrison, I’m not imagining
this. I wouldn’t. He’s stalking me, I know it.”

“
Take it easy, I believe
you.”

After she hesitated a
second, she added, “It’s getting worse.” I could see her shiver
slightly as she continued. “Today when I got back to my car from
grocery shopping, there was a note on my windshield that
said,
i need to see more of
you
, printed out in big block
letters.”

“
What did you
do?”

“
I panicked,” she said.
“Normally I’m not afraid of anything or anybody, but this is really
creeping me out.”

I tore the note up and drove straight here.
He must have followed me.”

“
You came to me?” I couldn’t
believe Becka was willing to admit she needed me for
anything.

“
Harrison, we may have had
our problems in the past, but you’re the one person in the world I
know I can always count on.”

Becka prided herself on her independence, so
I knew what that statement must have cost her. “The first thing we
need to do is call the sheriff.”

“
Do you honestly think he’ll
be able to help me?”

‘
Truthfully, I’m not sure
what he can do at this point, but we still need to let him know
what’s going on.”

She snapped, “What’s it going to take, an
all-out attack from the man? I can’t stand feeling this way, but I
won’t let the police think I’m a fool, either. Forget it.”

I stood and leaned against the wall. “I just
don’t know what else I can do. I’m here if you need me, you know
that.”

She stood and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Believe me, I know that, Harrison. Honestly, I feel better just
telling you about it.”

“
Are you sure you don’t want
to phone the police? I’d be glad to make the call for
you.”

She shook her head. “No, not until I’ve got
something to show them. It was foolish of me to tear up that note,
I realize that now.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “Do you
know what I’m going to do? The next time I see him, I’m going to
turn around and confront him.”

It was a lousy idea, but I couldn’t say it
that openly. “Do you honestly think that’s the best course of
action to take?”

“
Don’t worry about me,
Harrison, I’ll be fine. I’m betting once he knows I’m not afraid of
him anymore, he’ll run away like a scared little boy.” She opened
her purse and pulled out a red cylinder. “Besides, I’ve got this
Mace for protection if he tries anything.”

“
At least let me walk you to
your car.”

She nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

Eve was trying her best not to let on that
she’d been eavesdropping when Becka and I walked toward the front
door. “I’ll just be a minute,” I told her.

“
Take your time,” Eve said,
though her gaze never left my ex-girlfriend.

I walked Becka to her car, all the while
searching the parking lot and shops for her stalker. No one
matching her vague description was in sight, but that didn’t mean
he wasn’t lurking somewhere nearby. Becka unlocked her car and got
in, but not before she searched the backseat. She started the
engine, locked the doors, then rolled down her window. “Thanks,
Harrison.”

“
I didn’t do anything,” I
said with a grin.

“
You were here for me when I
needed you,” she said simply.

Before she drove off, I said, “Be careful.
Becka, I’m not happy about leaving it like this. You really should
let the police know what’s going on.”

“
If he does anything else, I
will. I promise.”

I had an uneasy feeling as I watched Becka
drive off. If anything happened to her now, I’d feel partially
responsible. I decided to call the sheriff when I got back inside
despite her objections.

Eve asked, “What was that all about?”

“
Becka believes somebody’s
after her. Why don’t you listen while I call the sheriff? It’ll be
easier to get the details that way.” I got Sheriff Morton on the
telephone and told him everything Becka had told me. Eve’s eyes
grew wide at the description of the stalking, but it had little
effect on the sheriff. A man named Coburn had been the sheriff when
I’d first inherited River’s Edge, but he’d been voted out of office
just after I’d discovered who had murdered Belle. Morton was a
little better, but not by much.

When I was finished, he said, “It could be
stalking, or it could be that your girlfriend’s got an overactive
imagination.”

“
She’s not my girlfriend,” I
said automatically. “I admit that Becka’s had a flair for the
dramatic in the past, but I’d still feel better if you talked to
her. You didn’t see her face when she came into the
shop.”

Morton hesitated, then said, “Give me her
name and address.” After I did, he said, “Tell you what, I’ll have
a black-and-white unit check on her later. That’s the best I can
do.”

“
I’ll take it. Thanks,
Sheriff.”

“
No problem.”

After I hung up, Eve said, “Well, she
certainly had every reason to be upset, didn’t she?”

“
I can’t imagine her coming
to me for protection,” I said. While I was an inch shy of six feet
tall, I was a good fifteen pounds overweight. Besides, I hadn’t
been in a real fight since the fifth grade. I couldn’t imagine
being anyone’s guardian.

“
Come now, Harrison, it’s
obvious the woman has faith in your ability to protect
her.”

“
I don’t know why she’d
think that.”

“
Perhaps you’re all she
has,” Eve said simply.

“
If that’s true, then she’s
got more problems than someone stalking her.” I was worried about
Becka, but there was nothing I could do about her situation. She’d
call if she needed me—there was no doubt in my mind about that—so I
tried to put her out of my mind and get back to the business of
running my candleshop. Still, I was uneasy every time I heard the
telephone ring, wondering if it might be her, in some kind of
trouble I might not be able to fix.

Chapter 2

The anointed day for the festival came soon
enough. I’d spoken with Becka a few times since the sheriff had
checked on her, but she’d had no more encounters with the stranger
since that day at River’s Edge. Maybe he’d followed her home and
had seen her talking to the police, or maybe seeing me armed with a
candle stand had been enough to scare him off. Whatever the reason,
Becka appeared to be safe.

The late-fall weather for the Founder’s Day
Celebration in New Conover was perfect as an unseasonably warm
breeze brushed away the touches of winter’s impending cold. Far too
late in the season to be called Indian summer, the warmth was no
less welcome, especially to those of us who were slated to be out
in it all day. Our part of North Carolina could have six inches of
snow one week, then temperatures could soar into the seventies the
next, and by sheer luck, the event organizers had scheduled the
celebration during a day more fit for spring than winter.

Even at 7
a.m
., I found myself
sweating as I unloaded my truck in the early dawn. I’d come to
think of the Ford that way, though I’d inherited it, along with
nearly all the rest of my worldly goods, from Belle. I just wished
she could be there with me right now, the two of us working side by
side.

I was setting up near the old County
Courthouse, now operated as a museum dedicated to the area’s past.
The two-hundred-year-old granite building was draped in bunting and
decorated with dozens of flags for the festivities. New Conover was
the county seat, located twenty minutes from Micah’s Ridge.

“
Hey, are you going to
daydream all morning, or are you going to help me with my stuff?” I
was glad that Heather Bane and I had decided to set up together. I
didn’t feel quite so vulnerable with a friendly face nearby.
Heather’s long blonde hair was pulled back in its standard pony
tail, and she wore a tie-dyed T-shirt with her jeans.

I slid her table off the truck bed and said,
“I was just thinking about Belle.”

“
She would have loved this,
Harrison,” Heather said as we set her table on its folding
legs.

“
Eve wasn’t sure my presence
here would be worth the effort and cost,” I said. “I’m starting to
wonder if she was right. Are you worried about making anything more
than what you paid for the display fee?”

Heather laughed. “Don’t get cold feet now.
We’ll both do fine. I’ve got Mrs. Quimby and Esmeralda watching the
store and Eve’s keeping your candleshop open, so we’ll make out all
right.” Mrs. Quimby was Heather’s lone part-time employee, while
Esmeralda was her cat and erstwhile queen of The New Age.

I finished transferring the boxes in the
truck bed to our tables, then said, “Watch our stuff, would you?
I’ve got to go park in the vendor lot.”

I had to walk three blocks
back to our tables after I moved the truck, but it was a glorious
morning, and I didn’t mind the stroll. I love early morning; it’s
my favorite time of day, before the whole world’s awake and
bustling around. As I passed table after table, I watched the crews
set up, most of them obviously seasoned in preparing their
displays. I still didn’t know exactly how I was going to arrange my
space, but there would be time, since the festivities didn’t
officially open until 9
a.m
. I was nearly back to my booth
when I ran into Gretel Barnett, the femme candlemaker
herself.

“
Hi, Gretel. I didn’t know
you were going to be here,” I said, trying to hide my displeasure
at her presence.

In a voice that rang out over the nearby
sounds of folks setting up, she proclaimed, “It’s a free country,
Harrison. I could hardly stand by and watch you steal all my
customers from me, now could I?”

“
How in the world can you
accuse me of stealing anything? You’re the one encroaching on my
territory.” My voice tends to get louder when I’m excited or angry,
and I noticed that a few nearby vendors were watching us intently.
So be it. I wasn’t sure what had brought out this new belligerent
attitude of hers, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with
it.

She retorted, “This is the land of
democracy, the American way. Surely you’re not against America.”
Gretel nearly shouted her last words, and we were getting more and
more attention.

Fighting to keep my voice calmer than I
felt, I said, “I won’t give you the satisfaction of making me lose
my temper in public. This didn’t have to be personal, but you’re
making it that way.”

“
I’m going to bury you,” she
said, not softening her voice at all. “You and your sad little
candle store.”

As she stalked off, I felt my face redden. I
was still steaming as I approached my table.

Heather asked, “What was that all
about?”

“
You heard?”

“
Everyone here heard you
two. Did she just accuse you of being un-American?”

“
I thought we were going to
have a friendly little competition between candleshops, but I guess
I was wrong. Now it’s personal.”

“
Harrison, you need to try
to get along with her.”

A lecture was the last thing I needed at the
moment. “Heather, I don’t need you as my conscience. I wasn’t the
one who started this.”

We didn’t share more than half a dozen words
after that, each left to our own thoughts. What in the world had
brought out that kind of attack from Gretel? She’d been abrupt when
she’d come into my shop before, but she hadn’t been insulting.