Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [34]
Markum was not the settling kind.
In all honesty, I was beginning to wonder if I was the type myself. No, I was just going through a dry spell when it came to my love life. I missed having a steady relationship with a woman, and hoped to have one again sometime in the future. For the moment, though, I had a very demanding mistress in River’s Edge, and I doubted she’d take kindly to any distractions from my attention to her.
Chapter 9
I was startled the next morning when Mrs. Jorgenson— my erstwhile star student and newest suspect—walked into the candleshop.
“Harrison, we need to talk.”
That tone of voice couldn’t lead to anything good. Trying to cajole her out of her dark mood, I asked, “Are you ready for your next lesson? I could probably squeeze you in now before things get busy.” In all honesty, I didn’t have very high hopes that business would pick up any more than the trickle of customers we’d had the past few days.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t have time for that right now. There is something we need to resolve.”
“Why don’t we go back to my office then.” I followed her through the candleshop, but instead of the usual browsing she did every time she’d visited At Wick’s End, her gaze was focused straight ahead of us.
I settled into my chair and said, “I wasn’t sure we’d see you again.”
She scoffed. “Harrison Black, I’m not about to be driven off because of rumors and whispered accusations.”
“Funny, but I was beginning to suspect that was exactly what happened.”
Her back stiffened. “Young man, are you intentionally baiting me?”
I knew it was time to back off. Not only did I need Mrs. Jorgenson’s income from her lessons and purchases, but I also wanted her close enough to question. Like it or not, she was one of my suspects, and alienating her wouldn’t do me a bit of good. I took a deep breath, then said, “I’m sorry. I’ve been under a great amount of strain lately. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Her hard expression softened. “I know it’s been difficult for you. I’m willing to give you some latitude, but don’t push me too hard.”
“Understood. I heard you’re under some pressure of your own.”
That certainly got her attention. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Runion told me he was buying up Gretel Barnett’s block, and I happened to hear that you own property close to Flickering Lights.” I watched her expression, but if there was any change there, it was too subtle for me to see.
“Mr. Runion spoke out of place.”
“So it’s not true?”
Mrs. Jorgenson snapped, “It’s irrelevant. Harrison, I own a great many properties around Micah’s Ridge and beyond. That pipe dream of his wouldn’t have affected me much one way or the other.” She was a bright woman, and it didn’t take long for my question to click. “Are you accusing me of anything?” she asked with deadly calm.
“No, Ma’am. I was just hoping you might know something about what happened to Gretel.”
My backpedaling helped some, but not nearly enough. “I don’t make it a habit of getting involved in murder, no matter what your own predilection appears to be. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
“Listen, I’m sorry if I was out of line. I just hate being a suspect in murder.”
“I can appreciate your point of view, but pardon me if I’m not all that eager to take your place. Good day.”
I couldn’t stop her from storming out, nor was I certain I wanted to try. Was her righteous indignation real, or was she upset that I was on her trail? Either way, I realized with a sinking feeling that I may have just driven off my one guaranteed source of income. But the alternative could be going to prison for a crime I didn’t commit. I had to explore every possible trail that could lead me to the truth, no matter what the consequences.
As I came out of the office, Eve said, “Harrison, do you have a death wish? I’ve never seen anyone as furious as she was when she stormed out of here.”
“I may have crossed the line,” I admitted.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Go apologize.”
“I didn’t say I was wrong.