At Wick's End - Tim Myers [60]
I grabbed a quick breakfast back upstairs at the apartment, then headed to At Wick’s End.
I had a call to make.
Becka picked up on the third ring. “Hello,” she said groggily.
“Sorry to wake you, but you asked me to call you.”
The transformation was miraculous as she suddenly perked up. “Harrison. I was just about to get up. Thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome. Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by the candle shop sometime this morning. There’s something I’d really like to talk to you about.”
“Really? Give me a hint. You know how I hate surprises.” Her voice had taken on a playful tone that for some reason I had once found endearing.
“Sorry, you’re going to have to wait. Can you make it sometime before ten?”
“Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”
That would be perfect. Eve wasn’t scheduled to come in until twelve. “See you then.”
After I hung up, I worked at straightening the shelves, putting items back in their original places. It was like a game of hide-and-seek with some of the customers, seeing just how far something could be abandoned away from its proper spot.
Miracle of miracles; Becka was earlier than her promised hour. She must have been more eager than I thought. She had pulled out all the stops, opting for a short skirt that showed off her legs, spiked heels that looked impossible to walk in, and a hairstyle that resembled a lioness going in for the kill.
Sure enough, she went for a kiss on the lips as she neared. I borrowed one of her old moves and tilted my head at the last second, giving her my cheek instead.
She looked startled by that development, but quickly regained her composure. “It was wonderful of you to call, Harrison. I’ve missed you.”
“I need to talk to you.” I took a deep breath, then said, “You’ve been to At Wick’s End before you visited me here the other day, haven’t you?”
Her gaze shot downward for an instant, a sure sign she was about to lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d never heard of this place before then.”
“Don’t lie, Becka, it gives you wrinkles. Somebody saw you here arguing with Belle just before she died.”
Becka’s soft cooing voice turned into a shriek. “How could you think that I could have possibly done anything to that old woman? You told me it was an accident.”
“So you admit you were here before?”
Becka shrugged. “I don’t know who’s been gossiping about me, but it’s true. You should have been a partner in this place. I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen.”
I ran my hands through my hair. “Back up and slow down. How did you even find out about this place, and my relationship with Belle?”
“I was looking for a present for a wedding shower, and I thought a candle might be nice, one that was personalized. When I saw your aunt’s name, I casually asked if you two were related. She told me you were, and I let her know how you were just getting by hand-to-mouth.”
“Is that what the argument was about?” I asked coldly. I had no trouble believing Becka would butt into something that was none of her business.
“It wasn’t like that, Harrison. You deserved better, don’t you see that?”
“How did Belle react when you ambushed her?”
Becka said. “She had a fit. In fact she said it wasn’t any of my business. We had a few words, and I left without a candle and never came back.”
I said. “Is there any way to pin down where you were the Sunday before last?”
‘‘Sunday? I was out of town from Thursday to Tuesday on business. Why are you asking me that?” She suddenly realized where I was going. “You actually believe I could have had something to do with her accident? Harrison, I was just trying to help you.”
“You had no right,” I said.
Becka snapped, “Why not? You wouldn’t have done anything about it, and somebody had to.” Her voice eased somewhat. “I was just doing it for you. For us, really.”
“You shouldn’t have, and I mean that.” I glanced at my watch. “You’re going to have to leave, Becka, I’m opening the store in a few minutes.”
“You’re throwing me out? I can’t believe that.”
I held the door open for her. “I don’t think