At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) Read Online Free

back room. “Give me a minute to get things set up.
Just keep an eye on the front door. If anybody comes in, call
me.”
     
    I was standing by the display of books on
candlemaking that we stocked, selecting a copy of each for my
supplemental education, when the bell over the front door
chimed.
    An older woman walked into the store, draped
in fur and the smell of money. “May I help you?” I asked, hoping
she knew what she needed, since I wouldn’t have a clue to the
answer of the most basic of questions.
    “ I’m here to see the
proprietor,” she said airily.
    “ You’ve found him,” I said.
“What can I do for you?”
    “ I was passing by and saw
the wonderful display of candles you have here. I understand this
is a place for instruction as well as purchasing, is that
correct?”
    “ Yes, ma’am,” I
said.
    “ Very well, I’d like to
learn to create my own candles. It’s always best to start at the
beginning. After all, one must have a foundation in the basics
before one’s imagination can take control. Are you free for
instruction now? I have some time available.”
    “ I’m sorry, but my
schedule’s pretty full at the moment,” I said. I wasn’t about to
admit that the only thing I knew about candles was how to burn
them. “However,” I added, “we’ve got a woman on staff here that is
most adept at candlemaking, and I’m sure she would be glad to help
you today.”
    Her gaze tightened slightly. “What is your
name, sir?”
    I gave her my name, and she said, “Mr.
Black, I work with proprietors, not with their staff.”
    “ I could try to work you
in, but I’m not making any promises,” I said, hoping she’d take the
hint and allow Eve to teach her.
    The woman looked at me steadily for a few
seconds that felt like days. “As I said, I expect the owner to
assist me. I suggest you find the time for me. I trust you’ll be
able to give me an hour on Thursday. Let’s say ten o’clock, shall
we?” She handed me an elegantly printed card as she left. I hadn’t
lied to her, but I wasn’t about to confess that I was the rankest
amateur either.
    Eve was standing in the wings. “Harrison, if
you don’t mind my saying so, you’re going to need to work on your
people skills if you’re going to run At Wick’s End. That woman was
ready to spend a fortune, and those customers are rare enough to be
treated like royalty when they come in.”
    I studied the card. Mrs. Henrietta Jorgenson
was all it said, in raised letters that looked handcrafted. “Can
you believe this? She actually gave me one of her calling
cards.”
    Eve asked for the card, and I handed it
over. She said, “Mrs. Jorgenson! She’s a legend around here in the
craft circles. Wilma Martin runs the needlepoint store in Three
Corners. She told me one time Mrs. Jorgenson paid for her Alaskan
cruise with two purchases from her shop! Belle and I used to dream
about her coming by At Wick’s End.”
    “ So all our money problems
are over,” I said, feeling slightly better about the payments
looming over my head.
    Eve frowned for a moment, then said, “Not
necessarily. Anne Green at Crewel World said something to offend
her, quite by accident, I’m certain, and suddenly Anne was
blacklisted at all the craft shows. It nearly put her out of
business. So what did Her Highness say?”
    “ She wants me to teach her
how to make candles,” I said. “And she wants to start
Thursday.”
    Eve looked grim as she said, “Then you’d
better get your first lesson right away.”
    We moved to the smaller working area in the
back where it was obvious the regular classes were taught. There
were six benches around the room, with enough space for twenty-four
students. Sinks and storage took up the rest of the tight quarters.
I picked up a chunk of translucent wax and said, “Let’s get
started.”
    Eve took it from me and put the wax back on
the counter. “We don’t have time to go into dipping or pouring just
yet. Hmmm, I suppose sheet