At Wick's End - Tim Myers [44]
It seemed a thief had entered Bleeker Jewelers just after they opened for business that morning. The thief must have known enough to steal the videotape from the security camera along with a great many diamonds, so the police initially thought it might be a disgruntled former employee who knew about the security system. Bleeker’s was a family operation, though, and the few employees outside the family had solid alibis. No one knew why the thief had turned murderer. Bleeker had gone against his own policy and had opened the store that day by himself. He’d always told his employees that if a robber came in not to be a hero; jewels could be replaced, lives could not. It was a pity the man had ignored his own advice.
I crumpled the paper up and tossed it into my now empty lunch bag, wondering what could drive someone to commit murder.
Then I started thinking about Belle, and I was more confused than ever. Certainly she wasn’t the easiest woman in the world to get along with at times, there was too much salt and vinegar in her, but could someone have possibly been driven to murder her? Could it have been another theft gone bad, like the jewelry store? One look at the meager till of At Wick’s End would cancel that notion, unless someone thought a candlemaking shop took in a great deal more than it did. That started me thinking about the break-in of the truck. Was there any way the theft of the cash from my Saturday deposit was tied into Belle’s death? No, it was probably just my boneheadedness that had led to that particular crime. So if Belle hadn’t been killed for money or passion, why had she been murdered? Did she know something she shouldn’t have? What in the world could that crusty old lady know that might get her killed?
I was no closer to an answer when I finished my meal than I had been from the start. A quick glance at my watch showed that I’d overstayed my lunch hour by ten minutes. As I gathered up my trash and headed back, I smiled when I realized no one would be able to dock my wages but me.
Lucas Young was there waiting for me at the candle shop when I got back.
“What brings you to At Wick’s End?” I asked.
“This isn’t a business call. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. Are there any problems with the store, or the building itself, for that matter?”
I wasn’t about to admit the cash theft, not directly, at any rate. There was no need to mention the additional break-ins, either. Frankly, I didn’t want the word getting around Micah’s Ridge that bad things were happening at River’s Edge. “We’ve had a few bumps in the road, but things are settling down now.”
“Good to know. Well, if you need an ear to bend, I’m available.”
I shook his hand. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Belle certainly did have a way with people. I didn’t know many lawyers willing to make house calls just to check in like that. It was more a testament to her life than any eulogy could have been.
The rest of the day was fairly quiet, with a steady stream of customers interspersed with lulls that allowed me to clean up the classroom. Mrs. Jorgenson had left quite a wake of discarded wax from her lesson. Worse yet, some of it had hit the floor and had been stepped on, making it a pain to remove. I was suddenly happy with the high rates I’d charged her as I scraped fragments off the floor with a putty knife.
Eve left a few minutes early to go by the bank in order to cash her paycheck, and I decided to close the store myself and join her.
“Where are you going?” she asked me as I followed her to the door.
“I thought I’d go by the bank too.”
Eve said, “Harrison, we are open till six. Our customers rely on that.”
“Come on, nobody’s going to have a candlemaking emergency,” I said. “What chance is there that a few minutes is really going to matter?”
“If you insist, I’ll stay and you can go.”
She was