Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [4]
“I didn’t do anything,” I said with a grin.
“You were here for me when I needed you,” she said simply.
Before she drove off, I said, “Be careful. Becka, I’m not happy about leaving it like this. You really should let the police know what’s going on.”
“If he does anything else, I will. I promise.”
I had an uneasy feeling as I watched Becka drive off. If anything happened to her now, I’d feel partially responsible. I decided to call the sheriff when I got back inside despite her objections.
Eve asked, “What was that all about?”
“Becka believes somebody’s after her. Why don’t you listen while I call the sheriff? It’ll be easier to get the details that way.” I got Sheriff Morton on the telephone and told him everything Becka had told me. Eve’s eyes grew wide at the description of the stalking, but it had little effect on the sheriff. A man named Coburn had been the sheriff when I’d first inherited River’s Edge, but he’d been voted out of office just after I’d discovered who had murdered Belle. Morton was a little better, but not by much.
When I was finished, he said, “It could be stalking, or it could be that your girlfriend’s got an overactive imagination.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said automatically. “I admit that Becka’s had a flair for the dramatic in the past, but I’d still feel better if you talked to her. You didn’t see her face when she came into the shop.”
Morton hesitated, then said, “Give me her name and address.” After I did, he said, “Tell you what, I’ll have a black-and-white unit check on her later. That’s the best I can do.”
“I’ll take it. Thanks, Sheriff.”
“No problem.”
After I hung up, Eve said, “Well, she certainly had every reason to be upset, didn’t she?”
“I can’t imagine her coming to me for protection,” I said. While I was an inch shy of six feet tall, I was a good fifteen pounds overweight. Besides, I hadn’t been in a real fight since the fifth grade. I couldn’t imagine being anyone’s guardian.
“Come now, Harrison, it’s obvious the woman has faith in your ability to protect her.”
“I don’t know why she’d think that.”
“Perhaps you’re all she has,” Eve said simply.
“If that’s true, then she’s got more problems than someone stalking her.” I was worried about Becka, but there was nothing I could do about her situation. She’d call if she needed me—there was no doubt in my mind about that—so I tried to put her out of my mind and get back to the business of running my candleshop. Still, I was uneasy every time I heard the telephone ring, wondering if it might be her, in some kind of trouble I might not be able to fix.
Chapter 2
The anointed day for the festival came soon enough. I’d spoken with Becka a few times since the sheriff had checked on her, but she’d had no more encounters with the stranger since that day at River’s Edge. Maybe he’d followed her home and had seen her talking to the police, or maybe seeing me armed with a candle stand had been enough to scare him off. Whatever the reason, Becka appeared to be safe.
The late-fall weather for the Founder’s Day Celebration in New Conover was perfect as an unseasonably warm breeze brushed away the touches of winter’s impending cold. Far too late in the season to be called Indian summer, the warmth was no less welcome, especially to those of us who were slated to be out in it all day. Our part of North Carolina could have six inches of snow one week, then temperatures could soar into the seventies the next, and by sheer luck, the event organizers had scheduled the celebration during a day more fit for spring than winter.
Even at 7 a.m., I found myself sweating as I unloaded my truck in the early dawn. I’d come to think of the Ford that way, though I’d inherited it, along with nearly all the rest of my worldly goods, from Belle.