Page 7 of Hex Appeal

By the time the last customer leaves, I’ve inspected enough candles to know I’m not dealing with an obviously careless operation. Which is good.

It’s also inconvenient. Because something is going on. And I’m here to get to the bottom of it.

The redhead approaches me again.

“What do you need from a candle?”

I raise an eyebrow. She goes on saying words I mostly don’t hear because I’m too focused on the light dancing her eyes. Luckily, I catch the last part. ”So what are you hoping for?”

“Answers.”

Her smile falters.

I pull out my badge.

“I’m Fire Chief Welles Hawthorne. And I’m trying to figure out why your candles keep starting fires in my town.”

Her green eyes go wide. “My candles are starting fires?”

“That seems to be the situation.”

She stares at me for another second. Then her eyes narrow. “Well?”

I cross my arms. “Well?”

“It’s only been three fires.”

I stare at her.

She grimaces. “Okay. That sounded bad.”

“A little.”

“But my candles didn’t cause those fires.”

“A candle you made was involved in every one of them.”

“Yes, but one was left burning unattended.” She holds up a finger.

“Another was knocked over by a cat.” Another finger.

“And someone put the third one right next to a giant bouquet of dried pampas grass.”

I rub my jaw. She has a point.

We got lucky with all three. Some property damage, but nothing major. No injuries. That doesn’t mean I can ignore a pattern.

Three fires involving candles from the same new business in a matter of weeks is three too many.

“Remind me again, what kind of wax are you using?”

“A soy blend.”

“Where do you get it?”

She names the supplier.

“Fragrance?”