A Flicker of Doubt: Book 4 in the Candlemaking Mysteries by Tim Myers

Author:Tim Myers [Myers, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, rivers edge, cozy, candle, candlemaking, north carolina, traditional, tim myers, crafts, at wicks end, harrison black
ISBN: 9781493500307
Amazon: 1493500309
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2013-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

After Markum was gone, I asked the customer what kinds of things his mother liked. “She’s a fabulous baker, but she’s looking for something else to do with her time.” He patted his stomach and said, “If I don’t find something else for her to do, she’s going to kill me with cookies.”

“Does that mean she has a lot of cookie cutters?” I asked.

“You wouldn’t believe her collection,” he said. “She can’t stop buying them. Mother claims the shapes are what she loves.”

“Then I’ve got just the thing for her.” I walked over to the aisle with tinted sheet-wax kits and grabbed a few colors. “You should have her try these. She can use her cookie cutters to cut out shapes in the wax. Hang on a second.” I’d been experimenting with one-page pamphlets for the store to try to generate some extra business. I grabbed the one I’d written about making specialty candles with cookie cutters and handed him one.

He looked at the brochure, then asked, “What do they look like, though?”

“Let’s see what I’ve got in my classroom.” We walked to the back of the store, and after a few minutes of searching the cabinets, I came up with a-red honeycombed candle in the shape of a playing-card-club I’d made practicing for a lesson with Mrs. Jorgenson.

He nodded. “This sounds perfect I’ll buy this, too, so I can give Mother an example of what she should be shooting for.” He looked embarrassed for a moment when he asked, “It is for sale, isn’t it?’

“If you see it here, it’s for sale. The only thing we need to haggle over is the price.”

As I rang up his purchases, he said, “Can she come by if she’s having trouble?”

“I give free advice, but if she’s interested, we also teach candlemaking classes here at the store.”

“That sounds great,” he said. “I’m glad I stopped in.”

I handed him his change. “Me, too. Let me know how she likes candlemaking.”

“Oh, I will.” He took a few steps toward the door, then asked, “Is the owner here today? I’d like to tell her what a good job you’re doing.”

“I’m the owner myself,” I said, “And I appreciate the compliment.”

“I complain when the service is bad, so I fed it’s my duty to praise where it’s merited. Good day.”

Goodness help me if I didn’t reply, “Good day to you, sir.”

After he was gone, I fielded a few telephone calls, waited on half a dozen of our regular customers and had a generally good time operating my candleshop.

I was running the reports from the register, happy with the afternoon’s events, when the front door opened. I’d forgotten to lock it, and a customer right now would throw off my report and cause me an extra half hour of work.

When I saw the look of dogged determination on Erin Lane’s face, I was suddenly sorry it wasn’t a customer after all.

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