Death Waxed Over (Book 3 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (17 page)

Mrs. Jorgenson found a spot away from the
few customers already there. She was serious about keeping our
conversation private.

Millie looked expectantly at me, so I
ordered two plain coffees. As she filled the order, she said,
“She’s lovely, Harrison, honestly she is, but I think you can do
better. She’s awfully old for you, isn’t she?”

I whispered, “This isn’t a date, you nit.
That’s Mrs. Jorgenson.”

Millie had heard all about the craft queen
benefactress. “So that’s Mrs. J in the flesh. I take it you’ve
managed to bring her back into your fold?”

“
I have no idea. That’s why
we’re here.”

Millie added a small plate and put two
biscotti on it.

“
Hey, I didn’t order
these.”

“
They’re on the house. Maybe
they’ll loosen her up.”

“
It’s going to take a lot
more than that,” I whispered. I carried the coffees and cookies to
the table and slid one mug in front of Mrs. Jorgenson. She looked
at the plate for a moment, then said, “I didn’t ask for
this.”

“
It’s on the house,” I
said.

Still staring at the plate, she said, “I
don’t approve of dessert.”

“
I do,” I said. “So it’s no
problem. I’ll eat them both. Now what is it that you wanted to talk
to me about?”

“
Blunt, direct and to the
point. I see this ordeal hasn’t changed your basic personality
traits.”

“
Mrs. Jorgenson, I’ve tried
to be charming with you. It didn’t work, remember? Seriously,
though, I would like to know why you’re here, especially after your
man Jeeves slammed the door in my face.”

Was that the crack of a smile I saw? I
couldn’t be certain; it had vanished too quickly. She said, “His
name’s Henderson, actually, and he’s quite important to me.”

“
I’m happy for you both. I
know one thing: he certainly keeps the riffraff away. I just didn’t
realize that included me.”

Mrs. Jorgenson frowned at me, then at her
coffee, then back at me. “I knew this was going to be difficult.
However, I didn’t realize you’d be exacerbating the situation.”

She was right. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll try to
be good. I promise.”

She took a sip of her coffee, smiled in a
surprised way, then said, “First of all, I believe I owe you an
apology.”

“
I owe you one too, so I
guess that makes us even.”

She raised an eyebrow pointedly, then said,
“Would you please let me finish?”

I nodded, and somehow managed to keep my
mouth shut.

She continued, “I never should have reacted
the way I did with you. Was I frustrated that the sale of those
buildings was scuttled because of that woman’s stubbornness?
Absolutely. She was never supposed to have a chance to purchase
that property in the first place. I’d put a preemptive bid with the
previous owner, but it appeared that Mrs. Barnett was more
persuasive than I was with him. But in all honesty, I wasn’t even
inconvenienced by her balking on the deal. That property’s in a
prime location. By waiting, it might actually result in a higher
profit for me and the other owners. I certainly didn’t shoot
anyone, particularly at something called a Founder’s Day Fair.”

“
It was called a Founder’s
Day Celebration,” I said, correcting her.

“
Harrison, I wouldn’t have
cared if it had been dubbed the Winter Cotillion, I still wouldn’t
have attended. Street fairs are not events I regularly choose as
entertainment.” She took another sip of coffee, then added, “I
overreacted, I admit it. You were looking for information, not
slinging accusations. I’m afraid I was a bit hasty lashing out at
you like that. I apologize.”

I doubted she had apologized to more than
four people in the last twenty years. “We’re even, then. I
shouldn’t have been so persistent questioning you. It’s a character
flaw of mine.”

“
There’s nothing flawed
about going after what you want. I just wasn’t used to being a
murder suspect in anybody’s mind.”

I finished my coffee, then said, “So we’re
both sorry for the way we’ve acted lately. Where does that leave
us? Do you have any interest in pursuing your candlemaking lessons
with me?”

She looked startled by the question. “Yes,
of course I do. That’s why I’m here.”

Finally, some good news. “That’s great. I’ve
been working on some new techniques for overdipping and incising
that I think you’re going to love.” I glanced at my watch. “I don’t
have anything ready now, but give me an hour and I can set some
things up.”

“
I’m afraid I’ll have to say
no,” she said.

“
Was there something else
you wanted to study first?”

She said, “It’s not that. I just don’t have
the time for anything so lengthy.” She saw my disappointment,
though to be fair I hadn’t tried that hard to hide it. I not only
liked the cash infusion from Mrs. Jorgenson’s lessons—they made me
feel like a real candlemaker—but passing on my knowledge almost as
fast as I gained it was extremely rewarding.

She looked at her watch, paused a moment,
then said, “Do you have anything quick we can do? Something that
won’t take long but that is still a legitimate type of
candlemaking?”

“
I’ve got just the thing. We
can make gel candles. They aren’t hard at all, especially after
what you’ve tackled so far. I’m afraid you’d be bored doing
them.”

“
Let me be the judge of
that, young man. Lead the way.”

Chapter 13

When Mrs. Jorgenson and I walked through the
door of At Wick’s End together, Eve looked as though she hadn’t
expected either of us back anytime soon.

I told my student, “If you’ll go back to the
classroom, I’ll be right with you.”

Mrs. Jorgenson nodded, then said, “Don’t be
long. I’ve barely got time for a lesson as it is.”

“
I’ll grab a kit and we’ll
get started.”

She said, “No more kits, Harrison. Let’s do
this one on our own, shall we?”

I nodded. “Good enough. Give me two minutes
and I’ll be ready.”

After she walked back to the small
classroom, I grabbed a round tub of gel wax, a handful of prewaxed
wicks two inches long and half a dozen small glass containers. Eve
abandoned her customer and came over to me. “What are you
doing?”

“
Mrs. J wants a lesson, so I
thought I’d oblige her.”

“
Gel candles, Harrison?
Don’t you think they might be a little too easy for your expert
student?”

“
Hey, don’t blame me, it was
her idea. Do you want to tell her she’s advanced too far to make
these? Eve, they’re fun to do, and they are a legitimate way to
make candles. She doesn’t have much time, so I’d better get
going.”

Eve said, “Make it good, Harrison.”

I smiled. “Don’t I always? You worry too
much.”

I found Mrs. Jorgenson looking through some
of our bins that housed candlemaking extras. She was looking at a
tray of semiprecious stones I’d bought in Hiddenite after
accompanying Heather on her last crystal-buying trip there. While
the rocks weren’t worth much, they made dandy candle additions, and
I’d even made a few for sale with rewarding results. I said, “Grab
what you like and we can use them in your candles.”

She started to choose a few stones,
particularly a flawed amethyst that I liked, then put them back.
“You know I don’t like to add things to my candles until I’ve
learned the basic techniques.”

“
Well, this is pretty
straightforward. We melt the gel we need, then arrange our
accessories and pour in the wax.”

“
That’s all?” she
asked.

“
You can make it much more
complicated. I’ve made some sea floor scenes with sand and shells,
and I made one with a light blue tint and added tiny airplanes for
a birthday party. It’s fun, you’ll like it.” I added, “Hang on a
second, let me get you a few of my examples.”

I dashed out front, grabbed some of the gel
candles I’d made recently and brought them back in. As I walked
back to the classroom, I saw Eve waiting on the woman with the
frosted beehive hairdo again and found myself wondering where I’d
seen her besides the candleshop. There was no time to pursue it at
the moment, but it was still driving me crazy.

I showed Mrs. J the samples. She studied
them for a minute, then said, “Why are there varying amounts of
bubbles?”

“
That’s one of the neat
things about this technique. It’s all based on the temperature of
the gel when you pour it. You get a lot more bubbles at a hundred
and eighty degrees than you do at two-ten. The bubbles are almost
entirely eliminated then.”

“
So why don’t you heat the
wax to two hundred and fifty degrees and make it clear?”

I shrugged and said, “I’ve heard that you
can preheat the container in an oven, but I haven’t tried it
myself. I do know that if you get the wax too hot, you’ll scorch
it.” I knew from experience how closely you had to watch the
temperature on the thermometer to be sure you didn’t overheat
it.

Mrs. Jorgenson didn’t say anything, but she
began collecting a handful of smaller stones, and on a whim she
added a small piece of birch bark.

“
Okay, now let’s heat the
wax, and you can make your layout plan while it’s melting,” I told
her.

I opened the tub and showed her what the gel
wax looked like in its container. She touched it tentatively, then
pulled back her finger. “It’s not at all what I expected. It’s so
rubbery.”

“
When it’s heated, it will
be totally liquid,” I said. The first time I’d made gel candles,
I’d heated the wax in a double boiler, but that took forever. I
learned it worked fine in a regular pan, and had the advantage of
being a lot quicker.

“
Now, while that’s melting,”
I said, “let’s pick out a few containers for you. Would you like to
add a color?” I asked, knowing that Mrs. Jorgenson would never go
for it. She believed the basics had to be mastered before anything
extra could be added.

She shocked me by saying, “Why not? How
about some red?”

“
That’s the spirit,” I said,
grabbing a small chunk of the red dye.

Mrs. Jorgenson said, “Can we add it after
we’ve poured the first one? I’d like to have one of each.”

“
Mrs. Jorgenson, we can do
whatever you’d like.” As the wax started to melt, I stirred it a
little, then checked the temperature with one of our
thermometers.

“
We’re at a hundred and
eighty-five,” I said.

She looked at her watch, then said, “Oh,
dear, I can’t wait much longer. Can we pour now?”

“
If you don’t mind the
bubbles, we’re ready,” I said.

“
Bubbles are fine. Let’s
pour.”

I transferred the gel wax into a container
with a spout, then handed it to her. “Now just pour the wax around
the wick. It’s okay if you get some wax on it, it will peel right
off. That’s good,” I said as she made her pour.

Mrs. Jorgenson handed the pot back to me,
and I poured it back into the pan. The gel wax quickly liquefied
again, and I handed the dye to my pupil. “Go ahead and put it
in.”

“
There’s not much here,” she
said.

“
Remember, a little goes a
long way.”

Once it was ready, I transferred it yet
again into the pouring container and she quickly had a second
candle.

“
What do we do now?” she
asked.

“
Give it a little time to
set up, then you’re ready to burn it.”

She studied the top of the second candle and
said, “It’s rather bumpy, isn’t it?”

I pulled out a hair dryer and said, “Just
give it a quick shot from this and it will be fine.”

She did as I suggested, and the candle’s top
evened out. “That’s amazing.”

“
Just a trick of the trade,”
I said. “It’s a shame you don’t have time to do any
more.”

“
I agree. Do you have any
kits I can take with me?” she said, her earlier complaint about
kits quickly forgotten. “You’ve shown me the technique, so I can
practice at home on my own.” I set her up with two of our deluxe
gel kits while she collected several bags of items to include in
her candles. Eve rang the sale up gratefully, but she didn’t let
her breath out until Mrs. Jorgenson was gone.

“
Man, oh man, that was too
close,” I said. “For a minute there at the start, I thought I was
going to lose her.”

“
Harrison, I can’t believe
she came back. What did you say to her?”

“
We both apologized, and
after that, she was raring to go again. I noticed you had a few
customers while I was teaching.”

Eve said, “I made a few little sales, but
nothing big. Jubal Grant came by.”

“
What did he
want?”

“
I’m not quite sure. He said
it wasn’t important. If you want to know the truth, I think the
poor man’s lonely. You appear to be the only soul he knows in
Micah’s Ridge.”

“
That very well could be.
I’ll try to stop by and see him sometime in the next few days. Hey,
I noticed that our frosted beehive lady was back,” I said. “I know
her from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it for the life of
me.” I stared off into space for a few minutes, then suddenly it
hit me. “I’ve got it,” I said a little too loudly. “She was at the
Founder’s Day celebration. In fact, I spotted her talking to Gretel
just before she was shot.”