Snuffed Out - Tim Myers [41]
“Sure, why not,” I said. After all, how bad could it be? Say a few words, cut a giant ribbon, and get on with my day. “What time do you need me?”
“The press is coming around one,” she said. ‘Thanks, Harrison, you’re a lifesaver.”
“My pleasure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some candles to make before I open At Wick’s End.”
“See you around one,” Sanora said as she let me out
“I’ll be there.”
I’d been hoping to get a little practice in before I had to open the candleshop, but I was stunned to find Mrs. Jorgenson’s monstrous car idling in front of At Wick’s End, though it was a good five minutes before we were scheduled to open. Eve was already inside. She’d turned on all the lights, and I could look through the window and see her busily restocking the shelves, something I should have already taken care of myself. No doubt I would hear about it from my lone employee, but I resisted the urge to dash in and help her.
I approached Mrs. Jorgenson’s car and before I could get within ten feet of it, she threw the door open and stepped out.
“Good morning,” I said in my most level voice.
“Now before you say anything, I know I’m early for our next lesson.”
“By a day at least,” I said, trying to hide my chagrin with a smile. I needed more practice before I was ready to tackle anything new with her. After all, I was barely half a step ahead of her when it came to our candlemaking lessons, no matter how much I practiced and studied on my off-hours. There was only so much time I could devote to actual candlemaking, as much as I enjoyed it. I needed time to get away from the wax and the wicks, so I could bring a fresh attitude to it every time I worked. Kayaking on the Gunpowder River was just the kind of diversion I needed, but it was getting inconvenient having to trot down to Erin’s every time I wanted to go for a paddle.
Mrs. Jorgenson looked apologetic, something I wished I could get on film. “I simply can’t wait. If a lesson right now inconveniences you, I’m more than willing to pay extra for the privilege.”
“No, ma’am, I won’t take advantage of you like that. Come on in; I’ll set things up for a lesson.”
As she followed me inside, Eve said, “You’re late,” the last word dying on her lips as she saw Mrs. Jorgenson following close behind me.
“Look who I found in the parking lot waiting for us to open.”
I swear Eve almost curtseyed. “I didn’t see you there. I would have opened early if I’d only realized.”
Mrs. Jorgenson said, “No need to apologize, dear, I wasn’t expected today. I trust you can run things while Harrison gives me a lesson?”
“Of course,” Eve stammered.
“Very well. Harrison?” She called out to me as she headed for our classroom in back of the store.
“I’m right behind you,” I said as I offered Eve a broad wink.
In the classroom area, I said, “I need to start the wax melting. Do you mind if we use pellets today, since you already know how to chip off the block?”
I didn’t think there was a chance in the world she’d agree with it, but to my surprise she said, “That would be fine. They melt quite a bit faster, don’t they? Besides, I have the wax-pounding down to an art.”
As I set up two stations for melting, she said, “Are you going to be dipping with me today?”
I nodded as I turned on the burners and started the water boiling. “We’re going to be doing flats and braids today, so we’ll need some freshly dipped tapers to start with.”
After the water started boiling, I poured the wax beads into the double boilers and got the wicks ready. Mrs. Jorgenson watched the process, then asked, “Did you know Mr. Gaston well?”
“Not really,” I said idly, watching the wax start to melt.
She pressed on though. “I understand foul play may have been involved.”
That got my attention. I looked up from the wax and said, “As far as the sheriff is concerned, it was accidental. Why do you ask?”
Was she actually