Brew or Die

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Brew or Die Page 2

by Caroline Fardig


  He didn’t know when to shut up. “Perkier in every way, too. Plus, you were getting a little too well used.” He added smugly, “You were quite frankly beginning to bore me.”

  She let out a screech and charged him, knife first.

  Chapter 2

  Oh, shit. I sucked in a breath, fearing where this was heading, but I kept the video running and snapped still shots as quickly as the camera would allow.

  Kixmiller tried to turn and run, but only made it a step before Berry plunged her knife into the side of his broad belly. He cried out like a wounded animal. When he fell to the ground, knife still sticking out of his wound, Berry froze and stared down at him. Tears started streaming from her eyes and she began shaking her head violently, as if she’d finally snapped out of her episode and realized what she’d done. As he was writhing on the ground whimpering, she snatched the knife out of his side and took off sprinting down the street, never once looking back.

  Panicking, I realized that I was quite possibly the only person who’d seen what happened. None of the neighbors had stuck their heads out their doors during the argument, so either a screaming match was a common occurrence or they weren’t interested in helping diffuse a domestic dispute. I could either blow my cover or let the poor man bleed out.

  “Damn it,” I griped, putting the camera down.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed 911, then scrounged around my backseat for the extra T-shirt I always kept there. I quickly filled the dispatch operator in on what had happened while racing down the sidewalk to get to Kixmiller. He was still lost in his own turmoil and didn’t notice me kneeling beside him until I placed the folded T-shirt over his wound and began applying hard, direct pressure.

  “Who the hell are you?” He groaned, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

  Once I finished up my 911 call, I replied, “My name’s…Jane. I was out walking and noticed you were hurt. I’ve called for an ambulance and the police.”

  Kixmiller’s eyes flew open. “No! No police!”

  “Sir, you’ve been stabbed.”

  “I fell!” he cried, his doughy, gray face dripping with sweat.

  “On a knife?”

  “I fell, damn you!”

  I sighed. “Whatever you say.” I wished he’d just pass out already.

  After a few minutes of listening to his idiotic, near delirious ranting, I was ready to kill this guy myself. Pompous ass. He kept complaining I was pushing too hard and that I had him in an uncomfortable position. Thank goodness the police came screeching up when they did.

  A uniformed officer leaped out of his car and came running toward us. “My name’s Officer Benton. I’m responding to a dispatch call about an assault. And you are?”

  “Juliet Langley,” I replied quietly. “This man has been stabbed.”

  Kixmiller unfortunately heard me and moaned, “I thought your name was Jane.”

  As we were speaking, an ambulance pulled up, and two EMTs came wheeling a gurney through the yard. One of them said, “We’ll take over from here, ma’am.”

  I stood and stepped back so the EMTs could tend to Kixmiller’s wound.

  The uniform pulled me aside. “What happened here, Ms. Langley?”

  “The woman who owns this house, Vanessa Berry, stabbed Kixmiller there and ran off down the street. She—”

  “No!” screeched Kixmiller, pointing an accusing finger at me. “She stabbed me!”

  “What?” I cried. “You need to get your story straight, ass-clown. You just told me you fell.”

  Officer Benton’s eyes narrowed at me. “Why would he say that you stabbed him? Did you?”

  This was not going well. Maya would not be pleased. I replied calmly, “No, I didn’t. He and his girlfriend got into a squabble, and she stabbed him.”

  “That is an outright lie!” Kixmiller sputtered as the EMTs struggled to get his blubbery form onto the gurney. “I was minding my own business, and this woman ran up and stabbed me. Look, my blood is all over her hands! Do you know who I am? Walter Kixmiller—CEO of Kixmiller Construction! I will have your badge for this!”

  I fired back, “A big shot like you was in this neighborhood after dark minding your own business? Who’s the dirty liar now? And your blood is on my hands from me trying to help you!”

  Officer Benton said to me, “We’re going to have to figure this out at the station. Come with me.”

  My mouth dropped open. I was being taken to jail? For not letting that son of a bitch Kixmiller bleed out on the lawn?

  Incensed, I screamed at Kixmiller as the EMTs were rolling him toward the waiting ambulance, “You fat bastard! I was trying to save your life! See if I ever do that again!”

  “That’s enough, ma’am. Hands behind your back, please.” The cop snapped cuffs onto my wrists. “I’m not going to place you under arrest yet, but you seem to be getting a little out of control.”

  Damn it to hell. This was not happening. My head was spinning so fast I couldn’t keep my wits about me as the officer began leading me to his police cruiser. Several things ran through my mind, from Maya firing me to me losing my PI license (on the first day, no less) to Stafford finding out I got cuffed to Pete finding out I witnessed a stabbing and got cuffed. And worst of all, Ryder would undoubtedly hear about this and make a point to come see me at the station just to laugh his ass off at my misfortune.

  “Wait!” I cried, stopping on the sidewalk. “I have the stabbing on video!”

  Officer Benton looked at me like I had two heads. “Why on earth did you film yourself stabbing someone?”

  Nearly spitting out a biting comment about him jumping to ridiculous conclusions about my alleged guilt, I instead used every last bit of patience I had to say, “I’m a licensed PI, and I was here legally—hired by Kixmiller’s wife to get a photo of him and his mistress together. I recorded their argument, which was also legal because they were in her front yard, shouting for the whole world to hear.”

  I heard a familiar voice behind me. “What seems to be the problem here, Benton?”

  Cringing, I wheeled around to find Stafford trying desperately not to crack a smile. “John, I can explain.”

  Officer Benton said, “There was a stabbing incident, and the vic insisted this woman did it. She got a little agitated, so I cuffed her.”

  Stafford paused a moment, I assumed so he wouldn’t laugh out loud. Then he looked directly at me as he replied, “I can say with one hundred percent certainty that my girlfriend didn’t stab anyone. Unless they had it coming, of course.” He got out a set of keys and reached behind me to remove my handcuffs. “Benton, call for another detective to replace me for this assault investigation, please.”

  The uniform grumbled, but did as instructed.

  I hung my head. This was definitely not how I expected my first night on the job to go.

  Stafford said, “Juliet,” and waited for me to look at him. Without a trace of humor or condescension, he held my gaze and asked, “Are you okay? That’s all that matters right now.”

  Touched by his gentleness, I replied, “I’m fine.”

  “You’re shaking.”

  I held my blood-covered hands out in front of me. Damned if they weren’t shaking like leaves. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, but I’ve never actually watched a person get stabbed before.” I thought for a moment, then added, “Well, not counting myself.”

  He shook his head. “Right. I sometimes forget how much of a thug you are.”

  Frowning at him, I replied, “I’m not a thug. I’m just really good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Stafford smiled down at me. “I know. Ready to tell me what happened?”

  Not really. I’d much rather continue making small talk and hope that this was actually a nightmare I could wake from, but that was impossible. I sighed. “Maya turned this infidelity case over to me earlier today. All I had to do was get a photo of my two subjects together, which I did. Then all hell broke loose. The mistress went a
t the fat man with a knife after he told her he’d found a newer, younger girlfriend. She ran off down the street, and he started bleeding like a stuck pig. I ran over and gave him some first aid, which he was none too appreciative of, and called for help. The uniform showed up, and my subject proceeded to point the finger at me, I assume to try to keep his mistress’s identity a secret.”

  “Bleeding like a stuck pig? I don’t think I’ve heard that one before. Is it a Gertie-ism?”

  He was referring to Pete’s grandmother, Gertie, who visited us every morning at Java Jive and was like a surrogate grandmother to me. If she found out what I’d been involved in tonight, she would have a lot of words to say about it. Most of which I wouldn’t be able to repeat. She shared Pete’s opinion of my new career choice.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I thought it was fitting since Kixmiller is a total pig in every sense of the word.”

  We turned to face the street as an unmarked police sedan pulled up. I recognized the detective, Carter Hayes, as he got out of the vehicle. He was one of Stafford’s closest buddies in the cold case/missing persons division and his complete visual opposite. Although they were the same height, Carter was lanky, as dark-skinned as Stafford was pasty, and clean-shaven—including his head. Carter was every bit as kindhearted as Stafford, and with him taking over the investigation, it would be completely painless for me.

  After first conferring with Officer Benton, Carter came up to the two of us, smiling. “And I thought it was going to be another boring night in the Cold Case Unit.”

  Stafford chuckled and said to me, “Yeah, he was jealous when I got called out first tonight. But with most of homicide busy with that multiple shooting early this morning, cold case is going to get all the assault investigations for a while.” He turned back to Carter. “After a couple of days, you’ll be sorry you ever wished for more action.”

  “Me? Never.” Carter winked at me. “Now get lost, Stafford. Your lady’s spending this evening with a real man.”

  Stafford gave him a mock glare, then turned to me and said, “Call me when you’re done.”

  I nodded, and Stafford returned to his vehicle. Other than removing my handcuffs, he hadn’t laid a finger on me. I really could have used a hug, but since I was a person of interest covered in evidence, it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Okay, Juliet, spill it. What the hell happened here tonight?” Carter asked.

  For the third time, I recounted the events of this evening. Carter made notes, and when I was finished, he took me over to the trunk of his sedan and got out a camera and a cotton swab. He took a photo of my hands and then ran the swab over them. After that, he handed me several baby wipes.

  “I’m sure you’d like to get a little of the dried blood off your hands. I’m afraid this is the best I can do for now.”

  Grateful for any help in that department, I accepted the wipes and began rubbing my hands. I got most of the blood off, but my hands were still tinged red.

  He said, “I’d like to see that video as well.”

  I took Carter over to my car and let him grab the camera. After bringing the video up on the little screen, he watched it in its entirety, his only comment being, “Ouch,” when Kixmiller’s mistress shanked him.

  Carter smiled. “Well, this definitely proves your innocence, not that I doubted it in the first place. Why don’t you relax awhile in your car while I try to get some statements from neighbors, okay? After I’m done here, I’ll have you follow me to the precinct so you can sign some forms.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You want me to relax after what I’ve been through?”

  Pretending to be serious, he replied, “Yes. And that’s an order.”

  Chapter 3

  “You heard already?” I moaned the next morning as I set Maya’s favorite, a five-shot cinnamon latte, on the counter in front of her. I was hoping to be able to paint a more professional picture of my involvement in last night’s incident to my boss by calmly telling her my version of events.

  She rolled her eyes. “I have eyes and ears inside the department. You know this. You can’t do anything in this town without me knowing about it.”

  Sighing, I said, “Well, who did you hear it from?”

  A smiled tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  My jaw dropped. “No, please tell me it’s not—”

  “Hamilton,” she said.

  Mortified, I put my head in my hands. Did he of all people have to find out? And worse, he went and tattled on me to Maya. Ass. My hands still covering my face, I mumbled, “I wish I’d never met Ryder Hamilton.”

  “Me, too,” Pete’s voice said.

  I put my hands down to see Pete and his grandmother, Gertie, approaching the counter. Thank goodness neither of them was close enough to overhear what Maya had been saying only moments earlier.

  Smiling, he added, “That douche is at least one thing we can agree on these days.”

  I smiled back at him, but immediately cringed when Gertie started in on the subject.

  She frowned. “Like I always say, you two never did give that boy a chance.” As Pete helped her onto the stool next to Maya, she shook a finger at him. “You were always rude to him.” Then she turned and pointed her gnarled finger at me. “And you broke his heart more than once. Such a sweet man. I miss seeing his fine ass around this place.”

  Pete griped, “That’s the only reason you like him, Gert. Because he gets you all hot and bothered when he struts around flexing his muscles.”

  Maya reached over and patted Gertie’s hand. “I’m on your side. I don’t mind watching him strut around, either.”

  Wanting out of this conversation, I went to the pastry case at the other end of the counter to grab Gertie’s usual, a bagel with cream cheese. I dawdled for a moment, hoping they’d switch to a new topic.

  When I returned and set the plate down in front of Gertie, Maya asked me, “Did you really get cuffed last night, or was that an exaggeration?”

  Not the topic I was hoping for. Shaking my head slightly and giving Maya a meaningful look, I said, “That’s not open for discussion right now.”

  Fortunately, but not surprisingly, Gertie mistook Maya’s comment. “Ooh. Is that new boyfriend of yours a kinky one? I didn’t figure he had it in him.”

  Pete made a face. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”

  My nonexistent sex life with Stafford wasn’t something I wanted to talk about with this group, but it was better than what Maya intended to discuss. Before anyone had a chance to delve into the subject, Stafford himself walked in the door.

  I waved to him and called, “Hey, John, we saved a seat for you.” Under my breath, I said to my friends, “Please nix this conversation, or he’ll be blushing the rest of the day.”

  “Good morning, everyone,” Stafford said, leaning over the counter to give me a peck on the cheek. When he noticed everyone giving him odd looks, he asked, “Are we talking about how I very gallantly swept in and saved Juliet from incarceration last—”

  My stomach clenched. “John!” I snapped, shaking my head frantically in an attempt to shut him up.

  His face and neck turned bright red. He murmured, “So…you hadn’t mentioned it to them?”

  “No,” I replied, dreading what was to come.

  Pete’s face grew dark. “Incarceration? Juliet, do you have something you want to share with the rest of us?”

  Uh-oh. When Pete used my full name, he was pissed, which was easy to tell, anyway, given the fact that I could practically see steam coming out of his ears. Gertie seemed equally angry, her expression a mirror image of his.

  Stafford tried to diffuse the situation for me. “It’s a funny story, actually. You see—”

  Gertie cut him off. “Young man, I think Juliet needs to be the one to ’fess up to what happened.”

  Gathering my courage, I said, “I was doing my first solo surveillance job last night. The couple I was watching got into a fight, and she…um, sort of…knifed the guy.”r />
  “Hell’s bells!” Gertie exclaimed, horrified. “You could have been hurt, too!”

  “No, I was halfway down the street and in my car, so they didn’t even know I was there,” I replied, trying to downplay the danger. “She ran off, and I went to help him. He…must have been delirious or something from the shock and mistakenly told the police I did it. I got the whole thing on video, proving I had nothing to do with it, so I was never in danger of going to jail.”

  My story wasn’t entirely accurate, but they didn’t need to know all the gory details. I shot Stafford a pleading look, hoping he wouldn’t feel the need to fill in any missing information. He gave me a quick wink. I relaxed a little, knowing he had my back. That was one of the many things I liked about him—he was always on my side, no matter what.

  Pete shook his head. “I don’t think someone who’s such a disaster magnet should willfully place herself in danger and call it a job.” Staring straight at me, he added, “You get in enough trouble here. You don’t need to go out to find it.”

  Maya waved away his concern. “Oh, come on, Pete. The bulk of her investigating will be done on a computer safely inside my office. Surveillance is only a small part of it.”

  Stafford smiled at me. “And let’s not forget that she saved a man’s life. If she hadn’t been there to administer first aid, he easily could have bled to death.”

  So much for trying to downplay the danger. I appreciated what he was trying to do for me, but it only made Gertie’s face turn pale as she slid her untouched breakfast away.

  She said quietly, “I think I’ll head home.”

  Frowning at me, Pete said, “I’ll walk you out.”

  As he was leaving, Maya caught his arm. “Did you get my text?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

  “Well, are you coming out with us tonight?”

  “No, not tonight.” He hurried to catch up with Gertie.

  My heart sank at hearing my best friend’s refusal to come out and celebrate me getting my license. Maya had called my closest friends, and they were all meeting us downtown tonight. It wouldn’t be the same without Pete.

 

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