Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [57]
“I thought he’d never leave,” she said.
“Yeah, he’s convinced Pearly’s here.”
“Why are you back, Harrison? Don’t you have a shop to run?”
“Eve’s got it covered,” I said as I pulled out a Phillips head screwdriver. “I’m here to work on that latch.”
“I tightened it myself. It should hold just fine until Pearly comes back.”
I shrugged. “I just hope he decides to.”
“Harrison Black, you can’t honestly believe he killed that woman.”
“Of course I don’t,” I said. “You have to admit, though, it doesn’t look good, him staying on the run like this.” While I was fairly certain my friend hadn’t killed Gretel, Pearly had managed to completely hide his affair with the woman from me. What else was there about him that I didn’t know? And what exactly was he capable of if his back was against the wall?
Heather said, “I’m sure he has his reasons. Good-bye, Harrison.”
“See you later,” I said as I walked back to the candleshop. Heather and Pearly had always been close, but she should have known she didn’t have to defend him to me. I wanted to believe just as much as she did that our handy man and friend hadn’t shot Gretel Barnett. I was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion who did, but it wasn’t enough. If Morton had been just a little more receptive to my input, I would have mentioned the clown Evelyn had seen at the celebration, for whatever amount of good it would have done. The whole thing was getting pretty complicated, and I didn’t have a clue who to trust, or how far.
I knew one thing, though. Clown makeup was a perfect disguise that day, and there was no doubt in my mind that the killer would easily blend back into the festival’s scenery after shooting Gretel. But who could the clown have been? I took the tool belt and put it back in Pearly’s workroom. My foot kicked something as I laid the belt back on the workbench. I had to get a yardstick out to retrieve it as it skittered under the workbench. It was a tube of greasepaint with the logo from Party World on it.
Just like something a clown would wear.
The PW logo was tough to spot, faint silver print inscribed on the silver case, and I wondered if the murderer had even noticed it. The police would have, though; I was sure of that. I was just glad I’d found it and not the sheriff. If I’d told Morton about the sighting before he’d searched the building, that tube would be a strong piece of evidence against Pearly. Was it possible that someone was setting him up? Evelyn had been emphatic about seeing the clown, and that could be pretty damning testimony. Or was she lying, trying to frame Pearly?
I grabbed an empty jar and nudged the tube into it, then sealed the lid. If there were fingerprints on it, I didn’t want to disturb them any more than I had. More importantly, I wanted to get that tube out of River’s Edge before Morton found a way to tie it to what had happened at the festival. I searched the workroom as best I could, but I couldn’t find anything else that could be construed as evidence against Pearly. I decided to stash what I’d found with April May until I could figure out who was out to frame my handyman. The possibility that he’d left it there himself was one I wasn’t willing to consider at the moment.
I was nearly at A Slice of Heaven before I realized I hadn’t told Eve where I was going. I’d have to make it a quick trip before she walked out on me in protest of my increasing absences from the candleshop. Though my assistant and my handyman had gone through some personal problems in the past, I was willing to bet she didn’t believe him capable of killing either.
I took the jar off the truck seat beside me and wrapped it in a worn T-shirt I kept under the seat to use as a rag when I washed one of my pickups.
It was between the lunch and dinner rushes, and I found April studying the selections on the jukebox. “Harrison Black, it’s good to see you out in the world again.”
“It’s good to be here,” I said. “April, I need a favor. No questions asked.”
“Name it,” she