Happy Hour

by Anina Collins

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that, honey. I’m just tired. That’s all. It’s been a busy morning for me. I’m just going to go home and take it easy. Are you going to be okay?”

  That was who my father was. In the middle of a murder investigation and considered the main suspect, he worried about me.

  “I love you, Dad. I’m going to be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  He kissed me and smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a tough old guy. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, Dad. Call me when you get home, all right?”

  After he shot me a look that said he thought I was crazy, he started to walk to the door but stopped. When he turned around, his frown had returned.

  “I want you to be nice to Alex when you talk to him, Poppy. Don’t hold what he did this morning against him. He was just doing his job. I want you to remember that.”

  “I know. I didn’t say anything to him when we were leaving because I didn’t want to pick a fight and my emotions were all over the place. But don’t worry. I understand he was just doing his job.”

  He gave me one of those wide Irish smiles I knew meant what I said made him happy. “Good. And by the way, you don’t have to be so protective of me. That’s my job to protect you, remember?”

  “I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can protect you now too, you know.”

  Nodding, he sighed once more. “You’re so much like your mother when you’re like this, Poppy.”

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, proud to be compared to my mother on any part of my personality.

  “It is. And with that, I’m going to go home and take it easy for the rest of the day,” he said as he opened the door and walked out.

  While my father recovered from his first interrogation as a suspect in a murder case, I intended on making good use of my time to make sure that would be his last time in that room at the Sunset Ridge police station. I knew I should tell Alex what I planned on doing, but I didn’t and instead called the coroner on my own.

  “Poppy, why are you calling me instead of your partner, the actual policeman?” Donny asked pointedly.

  “I wanted to know if you found any fingerprints on the glass. It just popped into my mind, so I figured I’d call while I’m waiting for Alex so I can tell him when he gets here.”

  So I told a tiny white lie. In desperate times, the rules flew out the window. And it wasn’t like I was trading away state secrets by asking him that question. I knew Alex would want to know about the fingerprints found on the glass too. Any good cop would.

  “The health department and the coroner’s office don’t do that work. That’s the police department’s job, Poppy, as I’m sure Alex would be happy to explain to you when he gets there.”

  I ignored Donny’s obvious jab at my fib and quickly thanked him before ending the call. If prints were exclusively the police department’s job, then that’s who I needed to call.

  One problem, though. As the lead officer on the case, Alex would be the person I had to speak to about this. On the other hand, I could cozy up to Derek, who nearly always fell in line with what I wanted. But now that Alex and I were together as more than just work partners, I had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate me using my feminine wiles on his chief to circumvent having to approach him about this issue.

  No, if I wanted to find out about the fingerprints on that glass the trace amount of antifreeze was found in, there was only one person I could speak to.

  The man I loved and who I’d all but given the cold shoulder not an hour ago as I left the police station with my father.

  I just hoped Alex appreciated emotional women who had the best of intentions, even if those intentions were slightly misguided.

  Picking up my phone, I pressed 2 and immediately heard his phone begin to ring. Suddenly, my palms grew sweaty and I began to shake. He’d made me nervous a few times before in the beginning right after we met, but now I truly didn’t know what kind of reception I’d receive when he answered the phone.

  “Hello, Poppy,” he said in what sounded like his usual happy tone he used when my father wasn’t his prime suspect in a murder investigation.

  “Hi, Alex. I wanted to talk to you about something I thought of a few minutes ago. I know this would be a police matter, so I figured I’d ask you about it. I mean, since you’re a policeman and everything, it would make sense, right? Right. So I thought I’d call you. You’re not busy now, are you? I could call back, but this seemed important when it popped into my head, so I wanted to call you immediately.”

  As usual when I was nervous, I began rambling. Not a very auspicious start. Thankfully, Alex had always been incredibly tolerant of my tangents.

  “What would be a police matter? What do you mean?” he asked, confused by my near gibberish.

  I took a deep breath and just blurted out my question. “I was wondering if you found any fingerprints on the glass. And if you did, whose were they?”

  Strangely enough, saying I love you to Alex the first time had been less terrifying than saying those few words now. He said nothing for a long moment, which only made my fear grow exponentially, until I finally filled in the dead space with more words.

  “If I’m bothering you, I could call back later. Would you rather I call back later?”

  I heard the shuffling of papers and then he quietly said, “We haven’t gotten the evidence yet from the health department.”

  “So that means you haven’t had the chance to check for fingerprints yet?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.

  “No, not yet,” he reluctantly admitted.

  My hopes buoyed, I said, “That’s what’s going to clear my father, Alex. You have to get that glass checked for fingerprints as soon as possible.”

  “I will, Poppy. I’ll get them on it right now.”

  And then another long silence crept into the conversation as neither of us seemed to know what to say next. Finally, I spoke first.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when I left the station before. I didn’t want to say anything that I’d regret, and I was too emotional. I just didn’t want you to think I was angry. I know you have to do your job.”

  “Derek said you heard the interview with your father. I had to be thorough so when we find the killer they can’t say your father’s a viable suspect, Poppy. I hope you understand.”

  I hated hearing the conflict in his voice. Alex had never been anything but a good cop, and this case and my father’s part in it made him sound like he regretted doing his job. I didn’t want that for him.

  “I do, Alex. I honestly do. It was just hard to watch.”

  “I know,” he said in a low voice full of emotion.

  “But my father would never do this. I know that as sure as I know you wouldn’t. When you get the prints off that glass, you’re going to see that.”

  “I’m just wondering if we’re going to find his prints on that glass too since he bartended that night.”

  The concern in his voice struck me. “I hadn’t thought of that, but if my father saw some strange liquid in a glass, he wouldn’t just leave it sitting behind the bar. He’s always after me and the other bartenders to keep the bar clean.”

  “Okay, but I think you need to get ready for the reality that his prints might be on that glass, Poppy. I’m not saying that means he’s guilty, but prepare yourself.”

  “I know. I just think this is an important clue in this case. Call me when you get the results, okay?”

  “I’ll do you one better. I’m off around dinnertime, so how about I bring over some food and what I find out? Hopefully, it’s a celebration meal.”

  This was why I was crazy about this man. He knew exactly how to make me smile.

  “I love you, you know that?” I said sweetly, truly happy for the first time that day. “I can’t wait to see you and enjoy that celebration meal.”

  “I hope it is just that, Poppy. I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you.�
�

  Pleased about how things had gone with Alex, I couldn’t merely sit around my house waiting for those fingerprint results to come in. I had to do something or I’d go crazy, so I began to think about who would know Marcus Tyne in town. Although Millville was the next town over, he seemed to be almost completely unknown to people in Sunset Ridge, except for Angela Touring and Gerald Engels.

  But someone else had to know something about him that could point us toward the answer to the question why anyone would want him dead.

  I racked my brain for nearly fifteen minutes but came up with nothing. He didn’t seem to be connected at all to this town other than through an ex-girlfriend and a fellow antique dealer.

  Then I remembered a year or two after I graduated from Sunset Ridge High School Millville shuttered their town’s high school after a fire gutted the gymnasium. Since then, they’d sent their students to Sunset Ridge High. If Marcus Tyne attended school in town, then my favorite high school English teacher Eileen Matthews may know. She did spend her time with the biggest gossips in town, so perhaps she might know something else too that could be helpful with the case.

  At the very least, it was worth a trip across town to the school and would get me out of the house for a little while.

  Sunset Ridge High School sat on the corner of Ashland and Hill Streets, two blocks down from Candy’s Cuts hair salon and the park. A large brick building, it reportedly may have been an army barracks in the Revolutionary War. As a result, it was one of about half a million places around the country that claimed George Washington had slept there.

  Few people in town believed the whole Washington slept here story, but the town happily displayed a plaque on the façade near the front doors that pronounced the tale as fact and included that interesting detail in every news article about the school, regardless of whether or not the information related to the story at all.

  I arrived at the school just as classes let out, so I had to fight against a tide of teenagers eager to get out of the building to reach Eileen Matthews’ room. I found her sitting behind her desk with her eyes closed looking exhausted.

  “Eileen? Do you have a minute to talk?” I asked as I inched into the classroom.

  Her eyes flew open and she turned her head to look my way. “Poppy, what are you doing back here in school? Missed American lit so much you had to come for a second round?”

  “As much as I loved it, I don’t miss high school. Once was more than enough. Do you have a minute to chat?”

  As I sat down in one of the student desks and immediately felt like Gulliver in Lilliput, she chuckled. “It’s different now that you’re an adult, isn’t it?”

  The desktop pressed down uncomfortably on the tops of my thighs, and I nodded. “Yeah, it is. So how have you been? How are the preparations for the Founders’ Day celebration coming?”

  With a heavy sigh, she said, “Same as last year. Here’s to hoping we don’t have a murder in town right before the event begins, though.”

  I sat up as best as I could in my seat and leaned my right elbow on the desk. “That’s sort of why I’m here. I’m working a case and I’m wondering if you knew the victim.”

  Eileen grimaced at my mention of the case. “Is this about what happened at your father’s bar the other night?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying to find out all I can about Marcus Tyne, the man who died, and Gerald Engels, the other man who was poisoned.”

  Her eyes flashed with defiance. “I want you to know I don’t believe for a second that your father had any part in that man’s unfortunate death. Joe McGuire just isn’t that kind of person.”

  Touched by her words, I swallowed hard to choke back my emotions. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. My father has lived here all his life, but I’m worried how people will look at him now.”

  I didn’t mention that my concern had ballooned after his interview with Alex this morning.

  “The ladies considered moving their once a month meeting from McGuire’s, but Mrs. Scanlon finally decreed that was unnecessary since no matter what, she was sure your father would be found to be innocent of everything involving that man’s death.”

  That the gossips in town had decided my father deserved a chance to prove his innocence surprised me. “That’s good to hear, Eileen, although I have to admit I’m a little stunned to hear them defend him. It’s probably because Mrs. Scanlon liked my mother so much.”

  A blush colored Eileen’s round cheeks, and she smiled like she’d just had a dirty thought. “They’re of a completely different mind about you since you and Alex began dating, and the Widow Dunn even said just yesterday that she saw your ex, who she said came crawling back to town after that grocery store hussy dumped him, and she hoped he saw you and Alex out and about since it would serve him right after what he did.”

  Inside, I rejoiced at the idea of someone other than me wishing karma would visit Jared early and often. As happy as I was to hear they didn’t like him either, I needed to know if Eileen knew anything about Marcus Tyne.

  “Do you remember the victim, Eileen? He may have gone to school here, even though he was from Millville, because of the two districts combining after the fire at their school,” I explained.

  “I don’t think so, Poppy, but Mrs. Scanlon said something about the other man right after it all happened about her wishing it was him instead.”

  Her comment shocked me. Mrs. Scanlon had a tongue like a viper all too often, but why would she want to see Gerald Engels dead?

  Curious, I asked, “Are you sure about that? I’ve met him and he’s a decent guy, as far as I can tell.”

  “Mrs. Scanlon said she wouldn’t have had a problem if he had been the one murdered instead of just made sick. She said he was a crook from way back because he comes from crooks.”

  I went through what we knew of Gerald Engels. He was Marcus Tyne’s friend and was willing to let him use his car. He worked with antiques, and he lived alone. Other than that, we knew nothing else, except at the moment he lay in a hospital bed recovering from being poisoned with Ethylene glycol.

  “Do you know why she would say that?” I asked as I tried to imagine Mrs. Scanlon traveling in the same circles as Gerald Engels. No matter how I arranged it in my mind, I couldn’t see where they would ever meet up.

  “I guess his father used to have a garage in town and he was known for padding his bill, according to Mrs. Scanlon,” Eileen explained. “I got the feeling she’d been his customer at one time.”

  “A garage? Like he worked on cars?” I asked, barely containing my excitement.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Thrilled to find a connection to cars and antifreeze that didn’t involve my father, I thanked Eileen as I squirmed out of the desk’s hold and hurried down the empty hall out of the school to call Alex. He answered on the first ring, his voice that somber tone it had been when he spoke to my father earlier, but I knew he’d be cheered up when I told him what I’d learned.

  “I found a clue that ties someone else to the antifreeze, Alex. I can’t wait to see you to tell you about it!”

  He didn’t respond to my fantastic news, and then when he did finally say something, I knew it was bad.

  “The fingerprint results came back, Poppy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  My heart sank. Alex’s voice sounded like someone had died, never a good sign, even if he was the most serious person I’d ever met. I’d hung all my hopes on hearing someone else’s prints would be found on that glass.

  “What is it, Alex? What came back?” I asked as I made my way down the sidewalk away from the high school.

  “There were two sets of prints on the glass.”

  My spirits soared once again. “That’s great! Now we can get to whoever’s prints are on the glass in addition to my father’s and find out what they know about Ethylene glycol and how it got into Marcus Tyne’s drink. Why do you sound so somber? Is this your idea of a joke? If it is, it’s really not worki
ng.”

  Alex remained silent for a long moment, so I asked, “What is it? Whose prints were on the glass?”

  “Yours, Poppy. Yours and your father’s.”

  And once again, my heart sank. “Oh, no. We can’t win with this. I was at the bar the other night and that glass must have been one I washed and put away. God, I can’t even get credit for doing one nice thing.”

  Alex began to say something but stopped. Hesitating, he said, “I hate to have to ask this, but do you have an alibi for Monday?”

  I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing a man and his Chihuahua to take a detour around me. “You mean other than the fact that you and I spent the day together and then the texts back and forth between us while you were at the station that night?”

  Recently, I’d been worried about our texting getting him in trouble since he was supposed to be working, but now I was thankful it had been such a slow night for crime in Sunset Ridge. At least before Marcus Tyne ended up dead.

  “I had to ask, Poppy. I wish there was someone other than me who could be your alibi. It’s going to be hard to convince Derek to let me continue with this case now,” Alex said in a defeated voice.

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said defiantly as I crossed the street to head back to my house. “Everyone in this damn town is either related to someone or involved with them in some way. The idea that you can’t do your job because you know someone in Sunset Ridge means the entire police force would never be able to work a case. I swear if Derek tries to pull that…”

  “Poppy, calm down. It’s not like that. He doesn’t believe your father or you did anything, but he doesn’t have a choice. The evidence is beginning to pile up against your father. We don’t have any other suspects, except Frank Mitchell, and as long as his brother has that time card saying he was at the garage all day, it’s going to be hard to say he’s a better suspect than someone whose fingerprints are on the glass that held the antifreeze.”