CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
A CROWD HAD GATHERED outside the alleyway. Between Alex’s kidnapping earlier and now this, I had a sinking suspicion I was going to be the talk of the village for weeks to come. Officer Downs made way for the police to shuttle Bozeman to the station. April pushed her way to the front of the small audience made up of shop owners, a handful of tourists who had noticed the commotion, and the small army of police officers surrounding us.
“Sloan! Over here!” She waved with both hands, jumping up and down in her skimpy barmaid dress.
“You want me to stop her?” Downs asked with a tiny sparkle of sarcasm in his eyes.
I chuckled. “No. It’s fine, but I do appreciate the offer.”
He allowed April to come forward. Then he addressed everyone who had gathered. “Okay, folks, let’s move along. Go about your business as usual. We’ve got things handled here.”
April practically tackled me in a hug. She stepped back and gaped at me. “My God, Sloan, you’re gushing blood. Someone should get you medical attention.”
I glanced at the nail marks on my wrists. Gushing was an overstatement to say the least, but I wiped the blood on my shorts. “I’m fine.”
“Fine? Fine? You look terrible, Sloan. Awful.” Leave it to April to make me feel better.
“I’m fine,” I insisted.
April’s garish makeup—bright orange lipstick and daisy yellow eye shadow—made her look like a comic book villain under the glow of police flashlights. “Was that Bozeman? What happened? It looked like he was being handcuffed and taken to Chief Meyers’s office. What did he do? Is he responsible for kidnapping Alex?” She assaulted me with questions.
I threw my hands up. “April, you should talk to the police. Not me.”
She flared her nostrils. “Sloan, don’t start with me. You know how imperative it is for me to disseminate important information throughout the village. People depend on me. Did his arrest have anything to do with Alex’s kidnapping? Villagers want to know. They need to know that our Bavaria is safe and crime free.”
I wasn’t about to be the cause of new rumors circulating through town. “Like I said, April. You’ll need to talk to Chief Meyers.”
“Some help you are, Sloan Krause. I’ve been sick with worry about you and your family, and this is the thanks I get?” She huffed. “This is going to be the last time I come to you for information. And I’ll remember this the next time you want to know what’s happening in the village.”
If only that wish could come true.
“Would you like to comment?” April looked to Downs.
He remained silent.
“Fine.” She let out another long sigh. “Since you’re both going to stay tight-lipped, I need to make my way over to the police station.”
“Good luck.” I gave her a breezy wave, knowing full well that it would infuriate her even more, before continuing on to Nitro, followed closely by Officer Downs.
“Where did you go?” I asked as he continued to move bystanders out of the way. “I thought you were right behind me. I heard your footsteps and breathing, or so I thought.”
“A call came through from dispatch,” he replied. Even with my long legs, it was an effort to keep up with his giant stride. “I stopped for less than a minute to take the call, and you vanished. I can’t believe that drunk kid got to you. After I escort you to Nitro, I intend to resign immediately.”
“What?” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious.
“Absolutely. I neglected my one and only duty. I don’t deserve the badge.”
He wasn’t kidding.
“No way. I’m not letting you do that, and I’m sure Chief Meyers or your supervisors in Seattle will agree. It happened in a flash, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think Bozeman wanted to hurt me.” My wrists stung. They would need some attention, but nothing a little antiseptic and Band-Aids wouldn’t fix. Otherwise I was unscathed.
Officer Downs didn’t share my sentiment. He stopped at Nitro’s patio. “I’ll be out here. I need to call dispatch.”
“Please don’t resign on my account,” I pleaded. “I’m fine.” It was true. In fact, in some ways, I felt better than I had since Marianne’s arrival in Leavenworth. Maybe I had needed something like Bozeman’s attack to shake me from the utter panic I’d felt with Alex’s disappearance. I could handle myself. What I couldn’t handle was anything happening to Alex.
I was more forthcoming with Garrett and Kat when I went into the pub and gave them the rundown on what had happened. Kat was stacking chairs on the tabletops, and Garrett was polishing the tap handles. The tasting room was deserted. It smelled like the lemon polish we used to clean the distressed wood bar.
“You’re back,” Garrett said. His eyes immediately landed on my wrists. “And you’re hurt.” Without hesitating, he grabbed the first aid kit we kept at the bar and directed me to a barstool. “Sit!”
I knew it was futile trying to argue with him, and I had to admit that my wrists stung. Garrett gently cleaned my wounds with an antiseptic swab. Kat served as his nursing assistant, holding the garbage can for him to dispose of the cleansing cloths and finding tubes of antibiotic cream and bandages in the first aid kit.
“Who did this to you?” He applied pressure to ensure the bleeding had stopped.
“Bozeman.” I flinched in pain as he wrapped my cuts with a gauze bandage. Then I proceeded to tell them about Bozeman yanking me into the alley, how he had confessed to Sara’s murder and been arrested by Officer Downs.
“That’s terribly sad,” Kat said when I finished relaying what Bozeman had told me. “It sounds like the housekeeper’s death was an accident, but it doesn’t excuse him, and he never should have been stealing from guests in the first place.”
“Exactly, and he didn’t do himself any favors by lying about it.” Garrett closed the first aid kit and returned it to the bar. “If he had called the police right away and stayed at the scene, I think I might have more sympathy for him.” He caught my eye. “I don’t like what he did to you, Sloan, regardless of whether he felt bad about his crime or was drunk.”
“True.” Kat sighed. “He’s so young, though. He’s my age. Can you even imagine? He has his whole life ahead of him, and now he’s going to spend it behind bars.”
“I don’t know about his whole life, but yes, I’m sure he’ll be in prison for many years to come, accident or not.” Garrett poured himself a half pint of Lemon Kiss. “Anyone else need a nightcap?”
Kat and I declined.
We were quiet for a moment, reflecting on the sober reality that a woman had been murdered and a young life ruined.
“No word from Chief Meyers yet.” Garrett wasn’t asking a question, rather confirming what I already knew.
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I sort of wondered if she might stop by, but I bet she’s busy with Bozeman’s arrest.”
“You calling it a night, Sloan?” he asked, swirling the buttery yellow IPA in his glass.
“I’m leaning that way. I promised Alex, Mac, and Hans that I wouldn’t leave until they met me here, but I’m not sure how long they were planning on staying at Der Keller.”
My first thought was that I didn’t want to bother them. Old habits die hard. Then I realized I should check in with them. I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text letting them know I was ready to head home and that if they weren’t ready I could meet them at the cottage.
Alex responded right away with a thumbs-up emoji: “ON OUR WAY.”
“You don’t need to come in early,” Kat said. “Jack and I already prepped your German sausage casserole for the morning. Garrett and I talked about it. We’ll cover breakfast. Jack said he’s happy to come in early.”
“I wonder why?” Garrett teased. “He’s a morning person, right? Or could it have something to do with getting to spend more time with you?”
Kat’s jaw dropped open. “What? No. We’re just friends.”
“
Sure. I’m glad my staff is getting along so well.” He winked.
Kat’s dimples sunk into her rosy cheeks. “We’re just friends,” she repeated to Garrett. To me she said, “Seriously, Sloan, we’ve got the morning covered, so don’t sweat it. You’ve been through enough this weekend. You should sleep in and relax.”
Again, I was about to resist, but I stopped myself. The new me embraced the idea that my friends and family wanted to support me as much as I wanted to support them.
“Okay. That sounds good. I’ll come later.”
Garrett let out a long whistle. “Wait, did I hear that correctly? Did Sloan just tell us that she’ll come in late?” He turned to Kat.
Kat grinned. “We’ve finally broken her!”
She and Garrett gave each other a high five.
Mac and Alex arrived shortly to escort me home. Not surprisingly, they had already heard the news on Bozeman. I had a guess who had been circulating the news of his arrest in the village—April. Needless to say, her version of events involved her arriving on the scene before the police. I gave them the real rundown of what had gone down with me and Bozeman.
When we arrived at the cottage, Mac went straight to the kitchen to warm up the teakettle. Alex went to take a shower. I plopped down on the couch. For the first time in weeks, I thought I might be able to sleep through the night.
Mac poured me a steaming mug of chamomile tea and brought it to me on the couch. “How you doing, Sloan?” His eyes were filled with concern.
“Fine.” I cradled the warm mug and stared at the fireplace.
He sat down next to me, propping a throw pillow behind his back. “How are you really doing? It’s me. I know you hate to admit this, but I do know you, Sloan Krause.”
“No, really. I’m feeling better. I think knowing that Bozeman killed Sara brought me unexpected relief. Don’t get me wrong, it’s terrible on all accounts, but his confession means that Marianne wasn’t involved.”
“I never thought she was.” He sipped his tea. “Alex told me more while we were working. He’s sure that she wasn’t going to hurt him. He’s convinced that she was really scared and thought that she was helping him.”
“I know, but why? I get hiding him at Hans’s place if she thought that Forest was coming after him, but why tie him up? That part doesn’t make sense.”
“No.” Mac was thoughtful for a moment. “You’re right. That part doesn’t make sense.”
“Hopefully the chief will be able to tell us more. That is, if they ever find her.”
“They’ll find her.” Mac sounded confident. He glanced down the hall and listened for the shower. “Sloan, what are we going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean about us.” His eyes watered. He tried to fight tears back. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Mac. It is.” I felt teary, too. I had loved him for my entire adult life. That wouldn’t change. Mac would always hold a piece of my heart.
He forced a smile. “I figured. I kept thinking that maybe there was a way that we could salvage things, but the last few days have opened my eyes. You’re different, Sloan. You’re stronger and you’re softer at the same time. It’s good to see.” His smile was a mix of sadness and pride.
“Thanks.” I reached over and squeezed his hand. “You, too.”
He kissed the top of my palm, careful not to touch my injured wrists. Then he let my hand go. “I guess this means we should move forward with the divorce?”
“It does.” I nodded as I took a long drink of tea. The hot herbal liquid warmed my body. I hadn’t expected that our conversation would take this turn, but it was good. Everything that I had been bottling up for months—for years—had bubbled to the surface this weekend. Otto and Ursula’s past, Marianne, Mac and me. It was time to release it. To let it go. It was time to accept what was next, and embrace the new.
“Are you going to change your name? It’s weird thinking about my folks—they created new identities for themselves when they moved here. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”
I’d had longer to sit with the news of the Krauses’ past. “Yeah, but also such a testament to who they are and how much they love you and Hans.”
His question brought up something I had been ruminating on for a while—my name. Marianne had said that my family name was DuPont, but I didn’t feel a connection with that name. I didn’t want to give up being a Krause. It was the name I had identified with for decades. The name that had given me a family. A purpose. “Would it be okay if I didn’t?” I asked Mac. “If it’s not weird for you, I’d like to stay a Krause.”
“I’d love that.” Mac cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to our Der Keller lawyers tomorrow and get a referral for a good attorney.”
“That would be great. I appreciate it.” I paused for a minute. Had the shower stopped? No. The steady sound of water continued. It wasn’t a surprise. Alex lived in the shower. He had gone from refusing to take showers or baths in elementary school to showering twice a day.
“You know that I will always love you and do anything for you, right?” Mac’s voice was thick with emotion again.
I moved next to him and leaned against his broad shoulders. “Same for me.”
We sat together in silence. I suspected that, like me, he was remembering happier times and the many years we spent raising Alex together and building a life here in Leavenworth. Something had shifted. My anger at him was fading. I was seeing him in a new light. Our separation had been good for him, too. He had stepped into himself in a way that I had never seen before. His confidence was palpable and not in a sleazy way. It was subtle. It was internal.
Our growth was parallel, although different. Maybe our time together had made us too comfortable. We didn’t have to become the best of ourselves, because we’d had each other. Losing that stability had pushed us to change and evolve. If you had asked me on the day that I’d caught him with the beer wench, I never would have imagined we would be here now.
I felt good about where we were going. I knew that Mac would always be family, and not only because of Alex. Because I did love him. How could I not? We had spent nearly three decades together. He was a part of my past, and he was going to be part of my future. For the first time since everything had fallen apart, I felt a renewed sense of comfort. I had no doubt that our divorce would change things yet again, but I also knew that we would find a way forward as co-parents and friends.
Alex emerged from the shower and joined us for tea, packages of raspberry Linzer cookies, and popcorn. Mac lit a fire, which cracked and burned amber flames as we spent hours reminiscing and joking. It was easy and natural.
This is a glimpse into what’s next, I told myself after fighting to keep my eyes open and heading to bed. Alex and Mac are your family. I drifted off to sleep content with the knowledge that I was loved.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS were relatively uneventful. Bozeman’s arrest was top news in the village, as was his hearing. He had been transferred to Spokane to await trial. Chief Meyers was pushing for manslaughter, but it would be up to a jury to decide Bozeman’s fate.
Police activity lingered in the village for days after Marianne’s disappearance, but there were no further leads, and eventually the teams returned to their respective cities. Officer Downs did not end up turning in his resignation, but after an additional week of duty, he, too, returned to Seattle.
One afternoon in mid-June, nearly six weeks after the dreadful events of Maifest, Chief Meyers called me to her office. We were between festivals, and it was still too early for throngs of summer tourists to arrive for rafting trips on the Wenatchee and backpacking trips in the Cascade Range, since school was in session for another week. The village was aglow with brilliant arctic blue skies and a warm early summer sun. If possible, the Maifest flowers had bloomed bigger and brighter. An angelic calm washed over the village as I strolled from Nitro to the police station.
There was an easy lull about Front Street. Shopkeepers chatted with one another. The cobblestone sidewalks were empty. A local preschool class had free rein of the park. Kids rolled down the grassy hill and chased each other around the gazebo. I grinned and waved as I went past.
Chief Meyers was waiting for me when I arrived at the police station. She motioned me to the back with two fingers. “Come on in, Sloan, take a seat.” She pointed to a padded folding chair next to her desk. The oak desk was covered with coffee stains and scratches. “I have a couple pieces of news.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Okay.”
“The first is regarding Hotel Vierter Stock. I’m sure this will be public soon, but I thought you would want to know that Jay has stepped down from management and put the property on the market.”
“Really?”
“Staff complaints led to some serious allegations, which I believe you may be aware of?” She widened her eyes.
“I may have heard some rumors.” I thought of Vienna, who had just started at Der Keller. I had convinced Mac (not that he needed much convincing) to hire her as a waitress. Garrett and I had also been penciling out the cost of sending Kat and one of the twins to some regional beer festivals this summer. If we were able to make it work, I had promised Vienna I would be in touch about some extra part-time work at Nitro, cleaning the guest rooms upstairs and helping with breakfast prep.
“Funny thing about rumors in the village. Sometimes they end up true,” Chief Meyers philosophized.
“Honestly, I had kind of hoped that Jay was the killer because that would have fed two birds with one scone, so to speak.” I used Garrett’s favorite reworking of the old adage. “For a while there, I suspected Vienna, too, and Eleanor.”
“They were on our list as well,” she confirmed. “We were able to recover Eleanor’s case of wine along with quite the stash of other personal belongings from a number of recent guests from Bozeman’s property. He had everything stored in an old barn on his parents’ farm. Most of the cash had already been spent, but I take some relief in being able to return valuables to their original owners.”
The Cure For What Ales You Page 21