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

publisher, came out of his
office. “I thought I heard voices out here. How are you today, Mr.
Black?”
    “ Fine. How’s your wife?” I
asked curtly. Wanda Klein had accused me of murdering my
competition, and her husband had run with the idea until he’d found
another suspect. There was no such thing as due process in Micah’s
Ridge, at least not when it came to the town newspaper.
    “ She’s fine as well. Since
you’re here, would you mind if I asked you a few
questions?”
    ‘ Taking a sudden interest in
candlemaking, are you?”
    He bit his upper lip. “Hardly. I’m more
interested in how you found that woman’s body in the river
yesterday. She was an old flame of yours, wasn’t she?”
    “ We hadn’t dated for a
while. We woe good friends,’ though.”
    Klein said, “I understand she was quite
promiscuous. Would you care to comment on that?”
    I’m not a man of violence ordinarily, but
there was something smug in the editor’s tone, a look of prurient
interest that made me want to kill him. I grabbed his shirt,
startling us both, and said, “If you do one thing to smear Becka
Lane in that rag of yours, you’re going to have to answer to
me.”
    I saw his gaze dart around the office, no
doubt looking for his eighty-year-old security man. It didn’t
matter, I’d said what I needed to, so I let him go.
    I started for the door when he called out,
“You can’t do that I’ll own that candleshop of yours now. You
struck me.”
    “ Where’s your proof? It’s
your word against mine.” -
    He looked at the secretary who’d taken my
money, but she replied meekly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Klein, I was on the
phone with a customer.”
    There was no one else in the room. I said,
“I’d better not see my name mentioned in your paper, either. Do we
understand each other?”
    “ You can’t threaten the free
press,” he said.
    “ I’m not threatening the
newspaper,” I said as I stepped closer. He flinched as I
approached, but I never laid another finger on him. Instead, I
whispered, “I sun threatening you, though.”
    He jumped back at my words. “There, did you
hear that? Gladys, I’m talking to you.”
    She was on the telephone again and held one
hand over the mouthpiece, “Sony, I wasn’t listening. Did you need
me for something?”
    Klein looked exasperated, then stormed back
into his office without another word. I noticed Gladys letting a
smile slip past her lips before she could rein it back in.
    “ Thanks,” I said.
    She smiled brightly at me and said, “I’m
sure I don’t know what you’re thanking me for.”
    “ Guess,” I said as I headed
for the door.
    “ Mr. Black,” she called
out.
    I turned, and she motioned me toward her.
When I was close to her, she said softly, “Good for you. He’s too
casual about pushing people around.”
    “ I lost my temper. Believe
me, it’s something I would normally never do.”
    She said, “Perhaps you should lose it more
often then.”
    “ You might be right,” I said
as I walked out of the office with the newspaper tucked under my
arm. Confrontations usually left me cold and shaking, but after
this one, I felt like I could take on the world. Maybe it was
because I’d been fighting for what was left of Becka’s memory and
reputation. I meant what I’d told him, too. If Hank Klein said one
derogatory thing about Becka Lane, he was going to have to answer
to me. I’d been so furious with his interview ambush that something
nagged at the back of my mind, something about the conversation
we’d just had. It wasn’t so much what he said as it was how he’d
said it I’d heard that voice recently, but for the life of me I
couldn’t remember where.
    Then it hit me.
    I knew in my heart who Becka’s secret
boyfriend had been, the one who’d been trying to get her back.
    It was Hank Klein’s voice on her answering
machine. I might not be able to prove it without the tape, but I
had a new lead to go on, one that I wouldn’t let go until