Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (14 page)

“
I guess you’re right. I
wonder if Jubal knows how much his cousin was worth?”

Markum said, “I highly doubt it. Harrison, I
once knew a husband and wife who were each independently wealthy in
their own right. They both ended up hiring me to find out what the
other was worth after a mutual friend bragged about something I’d
done for him.”

“
Did you?” I
asked.

“
No, that’s not really my
line of work. I did recommend the same accountant to each of them.
Those two didn’t have much imagination. They both hired
him.”

“
So you didn’t get a dime
from it?”

He laughed. “Don’t kid yourself. The
finder’s fee I got for sending them to James was enough to pay for
a month in Bali.”

“
Pearly can do a lot more
than that with the proceeds from the sale of those masks. I’m sure
in the sheriff’s mind it’s enough of a motive for
murder.”

“
No doubt that’s why he’s
looking for our friend. The only question is, what do we do about
it?”

I stifled a yawn, then said, “I’m not really
sure, and I’m too tired to think about it right now. It’s been a
long day.”

Markum stood. “This probably could have
waited until morning, but I wanted you to know.”

I joined him as he walked to the door. “I
appreciate you digging into this,” I said. “You’re a lot better at
it than I am.”

Markum locked his door behind us and said,
“Don’t sell yourself short, Harrison; you’re getting better by the
minute. Tell you what. Let me see what else I can come up with and
we’ll talk again soon.”

“
What about your plans in
Eastern Europe?”

Markum said, “The project’s not going
anywhere, and I’m not about to jump into anything before I’ve had
the chance to check it out a lot more than I have. We’ll talk
tomorrow.”

After Markum was gone, I walked into the
apartment, happy that the long day was nearly over.

I hadn’t been getting many calls since the
first deluge had stopped, and I’d become pretty lax when it came to
checking my messages. I was surprised to see a flashing “2” on the
machine.

I hit replay and heard Becka’s voice. Her
words came out in staccato. “Harrison. Pick up! He’s here. I don’t
know what to do.”

The connection broke, and as I listened to
the second message, I started dialing Becka’s number. Since I
wasn’t in the market for aluminum siding, I hit the pause button on
the machine and waited for Becka to pick up.

Her line was busy.

I waited a few minutes, paced around the
apartment, then tried her again.

Her line was still busy. All kinds of
thoughts were swirling through my head. Had the stranger become
bolder in his stalking? Was Becka trapped there, or worse yet, had
something more ominous happened to her? Becka had a cell phone, but
I didn’t know the number anymore.

I tried her home number again. It was still
busy. Or the line had been cut.

This was getting ridiculous. I hung up and
dialed the operator. When I explained that it was an emergency, she
tried the number, then came back on the line. “I’m afraid no one’s
there, sir.”

I slammed the phone down and grabbed my keys
as I ran out of the apartment. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.

I got to Becka’s place in record time. She
lived in Sky View, a complex that offered perks for young singles
with disposable income, a place I’d never been able to afford.
Becka lived in a corner unit on the bottom floor, and as I banged
on the door, I noticed her car was sitting in its parking spot. She
didn’t answer my pounding, but a man next door came outside. He was
in his mid-twenties, his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and
his outfit carefully tailored.

“
Come on, man, hold it down.
I’m trying to chill over here.”

“
Have you seen Becka Lane
tonight?”

He said, “I haven’t even hit the bars yet.
Is she yours?”

What a pig. “She’s your neighbor. Are you
saying you haven’t met her yet? Did you just move in?”

“
No, I’ve been here three
months. She’s kind of old for me, you know? More like your
speed.”

I let the obvious implied insult slip off
me. I didn’t have time to debate an unarmed opponent. “Where’s the
super live?”

“
Vince? We call him our
facilitator.”

“
I don’t care if you call
him princess, where does he live?”

“
Chill, he’s over in
27B.”

I left without a word, hoping that Vince was
not a twin to the man I’d been talking to. Becka’s neighbor was a
type I’d run into before, the carefully packaged but hopelessly
shallow bachelor constantly on the prowl for the next morsel, never
caring if the gift was all glamorous wrapping with nothing of merit
inside. There were female counterparts as well, but I’d managed to
avoid them over the years, or more likely, they’d avoided me. I’d
never had the look they were interested in, driving a pickup
instead of a convertible, wearing jeans and not Armani.

An older man with cropped gray hair and
thick glasses answered on the first knock. “Can I help you?”

“
I hope so. Are you Vince?
I’m a friend of Becka Lane’s. I got a disturbing telephone call
from her tonight on my answering machine. When I tried to call her
back, the line was busy, so I called the operator. No luck, it’s
off the hook. I need to get inside her apartment to check on
her.”

Vince stepped up close to me and said
fiercely, “You think that’s going to work on me? I wasn’t born
yesterday, jerk. Now get out of here before I break you in
half.”

I put my hands forward and said, “Hang on a
second.”

“
Don’t lie to me, you’re the
one who’s been stalking her. If you don’t leave Becka alone, I’ll
make you wish you had.”

“
I’m not the guy who’s been
following her. My name’s Harrison Black. Becka and I used to
date.”

He studied me a second, then said, “If you
two are so close, what’s her mother’s first name?”

“
You’ve got to be kidding. I
don’t have a clue.”

He started toward me again as I added, “I
never called her anything but Mrs. Hurst.”

That stopped him. “How’d you know her last
name?”

“
Why shouldn’t I? We had
dinner together a few times. It was a few times too many for me, if
you want to know the truth.”

Vince finally eased up his stance. “Yeah, I
met her last month. She’s a real charmer, isn’t she? Wait right
here and I’ll grab my keys.”

As we hurried back to Becka’s apartment, I
asked, “How well do you know her?”

“
Becka and I have been
friends since I took this job four months ago. Hey, are you the
fella with the candleshop?”

“
Guilty,” I said.

“
Yeah, it figures. I’ve been
trying to figure out why she called you instead of me. No offense,
but I’m a lot closer. What did she say?”

“
She said the guy who’s been
stalking her was here.”

Vince punched one hand with the other. “I’m
going to kill him when I get my hands on him.”

“
Let’s hope he’s nowhere in
sight,” I said.

As we got to Becka’s door, I expected Vince
to charge in, but instead he rang her doorbell first, then
knocked.

“
Come on, we’re wasting
time. Let’s go,” I said.

“
Sorry, I have to do it this
way or I’ll get fired.” We waited ten seconds, then he said,
“That’s long enough.”

As Vince approached the door with his key
extended, to my surprise, it opened on its own.

Becka looked confused when she saw us both
standing there. She was in a bathrobe and her hair was up in a
towel. “I was in the shower,” she said. “What are you two doing
here?”

“
I got your message, but
when I tried to call you back, your phone was off the hook. I’ve
been worried sick about you.”

She said, “If I don’t hang the telephone up
just right, it doesn’t disconnect.” Becka turned to Vince and said,
“Sorry about that.”

“
Becka, you were supposed to
call me if you saw that bum again.”

She said, “I’m sorry, I know I should have.
Harrison, when you weren’t there, I started thinking maybe I was
just jumping at shadows. It might not have been him after all.”

“
Yeah, well, next time call
me, no matter what,” Vince said. “I can be over here in thirty
seconds, and I’ll bring my baseball bat with me.”

“
Thanks, Vince,” she said.
The dismissal in her voice was obvious, and I turned to leave with
him.

“
Becka, I’m glad you’re all
right,” I said.

“
Harrison, why don’t you
come in for a minute?”

“
Honestly, I’d like to, but
it’s late and I’ve got an early morning.”

Vince said, “I could stick around if you
want some company. You know, just to make sure everything’s okay
here.”

Becka stifled a yawn, then said, “On second
thought, I’d better take a rain check on company. I’ve got to get
up early tomorrow myself. Sorry to bother you both.”

Vince and I walked out in front of the
apartment and stood there for a second in the glow from the
security light. He finally asked, “You think she’s going to be all
right?”

It was obvious he was worried about her,
too. “Yeah, at least for now. It’s good of you to keep an eye on
her.”

“
Hey, she’s nice, you know?
Not like some of the flakes we have around here. See you, Harrison.
It was nice meeting you.”

“
Nice meeting you, too,” I
said.

As I drove back to River’s Edge, I found
myself wondering why Becka had called me instead of Vince. He was a
lot closer than I was. It made sense enough when she’d rushed into
the candleshop for protection, but I was a good ten minutes away
from her apartment. I’d never been anyone’s protector before, and I
wasn’t sure I liked the responsibility. Still, if she needed me,
I’d be there, and what’s more, Becka knew it.

I just hoped the next time she had a real
emergency, I’d be able to get there in time.

Chapter 11

“
I’d like to see the owner,”
I said the next morning as the hostess of The Ranch Restaurant
approached me. She wore a fringed black vest and tall boots that
nearly reached the hem of her skirt. I had decided the night before
to pay a visit to Martin Graybill, one of the other property owners
who’d hoped to make a deal with Runion. I wasn’t scheduled to come
into the candleshop till noon, though no one would probably have
noticed if I took a few days off. While business was beginning to
pick up a little again, it was still quite a bit off from what we’d
been having before Gretel’s murder.

“
Is there something I can
help you with?” the pretty redhead said.

“
Sorry, I need to see Mr.
Graybill.”

“
He won’t be in for another
half-hour. Would you like a table in the meantime?”

“
No thanks, I’ll just wait
at the counter.” I found a seat on one of the spinning stools and
looked around. True to its name, The Ranch Restaurant sported all
kinds of cowboy memorabilia, including lassos hung over the bar and
a white counter dotted with cow spots. There was country music
playing in the background, and I half- expected the waitresses to
be wearing cowboy hats. They did all sport similar fringed vests
and shiny boots, just like the hostess wore. I wondered what the
waiters wore, but when I scanned the workers, the only men I saw
were working back behind the grill. There was a signed photograph
on the wall in front of me, and I wondered who would want the
autograph of a rodeo clown.

An older blonde with a big smile filled up
my coffee cup before I could refuse. “What can I get you?”

“
This is fine,” I
said.

“
Just coffee? Okay then. If
you want something else, let me know.” She moved on down the line
and refilled a few more cups, each time pausing to look expectantly
at me. It got to the point where I refused to make eye contact with
her.

I’d been there ten minutes, nursing what was
in my cup, when somebody slid onto the stool beside me.

“
Roxie said you were looking
for me.”

I swiveled on my seat and found a balding
man wearing a shirt with metal collar tips, a bolo tie and the
gaudiest cowboy boots I’d ever seen in my life. “Mr. Graybill?”

“
You can call me Marty;
everybody does,” he said as he stuck out his hand.

I took it, then said, “Nice place you’ve got
here.”

“
Thank you kindly, sir. Now
what can I do for you?”

I took a sip of coffee, then said, “I’m here
to talk to you about Gretel Barnett.”

Marty stiffened slightly beside me, then
said, “Don’t know much about her. She was new in town. It’s a shame
what happened to her.”

“
That’s a pretty charitable
attitude, considering that you must have been pretty upset with
her.”

His “boy howdy” attitude was slipping
quickly. “Why do you say that?”

“
I’ve talked to Runion, I
know all about the deal she blew for all of you.”

Marty suddenly didn’t seem all that friendly
anymore. “We’re doing fine here. I’m not even sure I was going to
sell myself. I’m happy running this restaurant.”

“
That’s not what I heard. So
where were you last Saturday?”

He looked at me like he’d just bitten into a
lemon. “You’re asking me for an alibi? The way I hear it, you’re
the one who shot her.”