A Flicker of Doubt (Book 4 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) by Tim Myers Page A

edged the document back across the desk toward me
with the butt of his pen. “Are you sure you want to renew my option
here? I know how some of the folks at River’s Edge feel about my
presence.”
    “ Just sign it, Markum. I’m
having enough trouble with Heather and Sanora. I don’t need any
from you.”
    He smiled as he uncapped his pen, then
signed his name with a flourish. I took the lease back, folded it
and stuck it back in my pocket. “Now that we’ve got that out of the
way, what did you find out?”

Chapter 9

    “ There’s really no easy way to tell you this,” Markum said. “I
found out who Becka was seeing.”
    “ It was Hank Klein, the
newspaper guy,” I said flatly.
    Markum sat up in his chair. “Now how in
creation did you come up with that? It took me most of the day to
figure it out, and I had to call in half a dozen favors to do
it.”
    I felt guilty about not sharing what I’d
discovered, but there was nothing I could do about it now. “It was
sheer dumb luck,” I admitted. “I heard him talking this morning
when I dropped in to get a newspaper. It clicked that his voice was
the one on Becka’s answering machine.”
    Markum nodded. “I fed better about it, then.
We’ve got two sources that are giving us the same answer.”
    “ We’re not reporters working
on a story. I don’t care if we have verification or not”
    Markum said, “Harrison, I’ve been meaning to
talk to you about that. I know you’re taking this personally,
there’s no way you couldn’t, but don’t let that interfere with what
we’re doing. Have you thought about how we’re going to handle the
situation once we find out who killed Becka?’
    ‘ That’s easy. We tell
Sheriff Morton.”
    “ Do you honestly think he’s
going to believe us? We might not exactly have proof that would
stand up in court, do you understand what I’m trying to tell
you?”
    I felt a cold chill sweep through me. “What
are you suggesting, that we punish the killer ourselves?’
    “ It happens more often than
you might think,” he said.
    I stood up. “I don’t like the way this
conversation is heading.”
    “ It’s something we need to
consider, that’s all I’m saying.”
    “ I don’t have to like it,
though, do I?” I walked out of his office, barely acknowledging his
good night on my way out. Did he mean what I thought he did? Was
Markum suggesting we punish the offender ourselves? It was too much
for me to take. I went back to my apartment, added Markum’s lease
to the others I had, then I double-dead-bolted my door.
    For tonight, I wanted to be alone with my
thoughts. Esme herself wouldn’t have been welcome. As I cleaned out
my pockets, I found the article I’d cut out of the newspaper. I’d
forgotten to share it with Markum, but I was in no mood to even be
in the same room with him at the moment I put it on my dresser and
did my best to forget about what I’d just heard from my best
friend.
    I’d just settled down with a Charlotte
MacLeod novel I’d never read when there was a knock on my door. I
wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, and I thought about pretending I
wasn’t there.
    “ Harrison? Are you
there?”
    It was the sheriff. He was one person I
couldn’t afford to ignore.
    I opened the door. “Come on in.”
    He stepped past me, his hat in hand, and
said, “Sorry it’s so late, but I need to talk to you about a few
things.”
    “ Did you find anything out
about Becka?”
    “ No, as far as I’m
concerned, there’s nothing to talk about there.” He spun his
sheriff’s hat in his hands, a sure sign he was unhappy about
something. “First, the woman you asked me about who drowned in
Larkspur Lake. They found her fishing boat this morning. Evidently
she tripped and fell off. The coroner says she hit her head as she
went overboard.”
    “ Or maybe somebody hit her
over the head, then tossed her over the side.”
    “ Harrison, stop looking for
conspiracies and cover- ups everywhere. It was