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By Root 268 0

the shop open.” If Eve was waiting for me to tell her I couldn’t do it without her, she was going to be disappointed. Over the past few months I’d gotten pretty good with the basics of candlemaking, and there weren’t many questions at the shop I couldn’t answer on my own, not that I was ready to run the place without her. Eve taught several of our classes at night, and I was the first to admit she handled group sessions better than I did. Still, my income for the store through teaching exceeded hers, and would continue to do so as long as I had my star student, Mrs. Jorgenson, a rich dilettante who had suddenly taken a passionate fancy to candlemaking. Together, we’d explored one-on-one basic candlemaking techniques for rolled candles and dipped ones as well. We’d touched briefly on pouring candles, but Mrs. Jorgenson had recently told me she’d like to get back to that technique before we got into gel candles, and with what she was paying me for private lessons, she could certainly dictate our schedule if she wanted to. It was almost a crime to charge her so much for something I enjoyed doing, but I had to constantly remind myself that I was in business to make money.

From her expression, it was pretty obvious that Eve was wavering, so I decided to end our discussion. “Then it’s settled. You keep At Wick’s End open for our regular customers during the fair, and I’ll see what I can do about getting some new ones.”

Before Eve could protest any more, the bell over the front door jingled and Pearly Gray, retired psychologist and current handyman to all of River’s Edge, said, “Harrison, I need a moment of your time if you can spare it.”

A smooth escape was exactly what I needed. As I walked over to him, I asked, “What can I do for you, Pearly?”

He frowned, then said, “I hate to do this to you right now, but I need a break from my duties.”

Pearly hadn’t taken a day off since I’d inherited the River’s Edge complex, and I had no idea what arrangements for vacation he’d made with Belle. “How much time do you need? We could probably spare you for a week or two if we had to.”

He looked startled by the offer. “Goodness no, it’s nothing like that. I just need tomorrow off. I have to help a friend.” He said the last with his gaze downcast, and I wondered what kind of help he’d be supplying, but it was none of my business.

“That would be fine,” I said.

“Thank you, Harrison.” Pearly grabbed my hand in both of his and shook it vigorously. After he was gone, I realized that he was much more enthusiastic with his thanks than he’d needed to be. What was Pearly up to?

No matter. I really didn’t have time to delve into my handyman’s private life. I had a table display to prepare for the event, just one more task I’d never attempted before in my life. There was one thing I could say about running At Wick’s End: just when I thought I had a handle on things, something new popped up to show me just how wrong I was.

I’d finally gotten Eve to accept the idea of the Founder’s Day table by asking her opinions on my display plans, and I thought I had her won over when a frown shadowed her face.

“What is it now?” I asked. “Have you thought of another objection to the idea?”

“It’s not that. Look who’s coming in.”

I turned to see Becka Lane, my onetime girlfriend, rush inside At Wick’s End. Her lustrous blonde hair—usually perfect in appearance—was tousled, and one edge of her blouse was coming out of her short skirt’s waistband. My sarcastic comment died in my throat when I saw her face, though. There was a look of pure, raw fear in her eyes that startled me with its intensity.

“Becka, what is it? What’s wrong?”

She rushed toward me, then glanced back at the door. “That man...he’s back. He’s after me. Harrison, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Protect you from what?” I looked out the bay window in front of the shop, but I couldn’t see anyone nearby. “Becka, there’s nobody out there. What are you talking about?”

She nearly screamed. “Go look for yourself. I’m telling you, he’s out there.”

I picked up a large wrought-iron candle stand by