At Wick's End (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) by Tim Myers

Author:Tim Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: at wicks end, candlemaking, cozy, crafts, harrison black, mystery, north carolina, tim myers, traditional
Publisher: Tim Myers

Chapter 9

Eve didn’t say a word the next morning until she opened the cash register and looked at the tape from the previous day’s report. I’d been tiptoeing around her from the moment she’d walked in, dying to ask what had set her off the day before but afraid to lose her for another day, or worse yet, for good.

She studied the register tape for a minute, then finally said, “You opened yesterday after all?”

I said, “I was here anyway, and besides, I figured if I got too far in over my head, you could bail me out today. I did okay.”

She took that in, studied the tape again, then said grudgingly, “You did better than okay. From these figures, I’d say you managed pretty well on your own, Harrison.”

“I didn’t answer everybody’s questions, but a couple of folks promised to come back today to talk to you.”

She looked as if she was going to cry, then mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

“Pardon,” I said gently, “I missed that.”

“I said I’m sorry I let you down,” Eve said forcibly. “I should have been here.”

“Hey, you needed some time to yourself,” I said. “I could tell the break-in upset you.”

“Harrison, I never would have done that to Belle, just abandoned her like that.”

“It’s okay, believe me.” I glanced at the clock. “But I’ve got to tell you, I’m really glad you’re here today. I’ve got a ton of things going on, and I couldn’t manage without you.”

Eve said, “That’s right, Mrs. Jorgenson is coming in for her first lesson today, isn’t she?”

“Don’t forget, I’m meeting with our bookkeeper before that. I hate to walk out on you just before we open, but I’ve got to have this meeting with Ann Marie Hart if I’m ever going to figure out our accounting system.”

Eve said, “You won’t be bailing out on me, that’s a part of store business.” She added with a grin, “Even if you were, that would make us even.”

Two minutes after nine, a rail-thin blonde with a dizzying smile walked in, a stack of books and journals balanced under one arm and a thick briefcase dangling from the other. She needed a shopping cart for all the things she was carrying.

“Hey Eve,” she said with a thick Tennessee accent that was uniquely its own. She plopped the books down on the counter and extended her hand to me. “You must be Harrison. Or would you prefer Mr. Black?”

“Harrison’s fine.”

She nodded. “Then I’m Ann Marie. Shall we get down to business?”

“I’m ready if you are.”

We walked back to the office, and Ann Marie said, “Harrison, I’ve been up since 4 am going over everything just to make sure I had my ducks all in a row. Let’s teach you about business for At Wick’s End.”

As she spread her books across the desk Eve and I and I shared in the office, I said, “There’s something you should know right up front. All the cash is gone from Saturday’s deposit.”

The air went out of Ann Marie as she slumped against the desk.

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