A Flicker of Doubt - Tim Myers [50]
She thought about it a full minute, then said, “You know I don’t believe in gossip, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am, and I would never ask you anything about anyone that was of a personal nature. I’m more | concerned about who says jump and who says how high.”
She nodded. “I can agree to that then, at least on principle. What would you like to know?”
I said, “You first. What are the candles doing?”
She looked down at her hands and said, “Actually, I’m having a difficult time getting them out of their molds.”
“Did you use the release I sold you?”
She said, “I used some, but the directions made me quite cautious against overusing it I do hate chemicals.”
I said patiently, “Don’t be afraid to coat the interior. If you don’t like the spray, you can add stearin to your wax. That works like a charm. Don’t use it in rubber molds though; it eats right through them over time.”
She said, “That sounds simple enough.” She grabbed a few blocks of wax from the shelves, some stearin, a selection of scents and dyes, then she asked, “What would you like to know?”
“What do you know about Greg Runion?”
She bristled slightly at the question. “Harrison, I told you I’m not a gossip.”
“I don’t care if he wears pink ruffles at home or dances with pigs. I want to know if he’s got the sources to pull off this major development he’s planning.”
Mrs. Jorgenson frowned. “Yes, I saw that disgraceful story in the paper this morning as well. Might I ask why you’re suddenly so interested in Greg Runion?”
“A friend of mine has been taken in by the man, and I’m concerned about him.”
“As well you should be,” she said gently. “You asked if he has the resources to finance his latest scheme. My guess would be no.”
“So where’s he getting his backing? Is he using Cyrus Walters’s money?”
“Do you know Cyrus?” Mrs. Jorgenson asked.
“Yes, we’ve become friends. At least I thought so.”
“Now that’s a curious comment Why do you say that?”
“He threw me out of his house a few days ago, and when I came back to straighten things out, there was a guard posted at the front door.”
Mrs. Jorgenson frowned, stared out the bay window in front of the shop, then said, “Harrison, you must never tell her I suggested this, but there’s only one thing to do. You must call his sister in West Virginia.”
“Thanks, but I already spoke with Ruth, and she’s coming as soon as she can get away.”
Mrs. Jorgenson eyed me carefully. “Why, Harrison, you’ve become quite resourceful, haven’t you? Ruth will cut through this nonsense, you can rest assured on that point.”
“So what should I know about Greg Runion?”
“I’ve heard rumors that he has a financial backer on this project of his to turn the banks of the Gunpowder River into a nightmare of condominiums.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“I’m sure you don’t know the gentleman, but perhaps I could arrange an introduction, if I handle it just so.”
“Thanks, I’d really appreciate that,” I said. “So, are you going to tell me his name, or is it shrouded in mystery?”
“It won’t mean anything to you, but I’ll tell you if you promise you’ll keep it to yourself.”
“I promise,” I said, wondering who this financial backer was.
“Grover Blake,” she said in a hushed voice.
“I’ve met him,” I said. “In fact, I just had some of his barbecue.”
Mrs. Jorgenson sniffed the air. “Honestly, I don’t know why you bother asking me things. You seem to know everything going on in Micah’s Ridge.”
I tried to mollify her. Mrs. Jorgenson was one person in town I couldn’t afford to alienate. I said, “I was under the impression that Grover gave all of his money away when he moved back here.”
She smiled at that. “Then you don’t know everything. It makes a quaint story, but that’s all it is. He’s got more assets than I do, and that’s saying something for our part of North Carolina. So what are you going to do with this information?”
I’m going to go talk to him.”
“Be careful, Harrison. All is not as it seems there.”
I thanked