Death on Tap

by Ellie Alexander

  He was probably right, but I wanted to hear it from the source’s mouth. As much as I didn’t want to have another conversation with April, this information could help clear Mac.

  “Things are going to get crazy around here soon. I can’t believe they’re already setting up for Oktoberfest.” Leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, I said, “I should get back.”

  To my surprise, he pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Sloan, you know you can call on me or Mama and Papa anytime. We all love you.”

  I fought back tears and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I love you guys, too.”

  “You know that you’ll always be my sis, no matter what happens with you and Mac, right?”

  “Stop.” I punched him gently on the shoulder. “You’re going to make me cry and ruin my reputation as a hard-nosed brewer.”

  His golden brown eyes looked misty, too. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “Let’s go out for a pint later,” I called as I quickly whipped around in the opposite direction and started walking down the sidewalk.

  The sweet moment with Hans had made my self-doubt and fear of abandonment well to the surface. I blinked as hard as I could and willed myself not to cry. Part of me wondered if Mac and I would have ever gotten married if it hadn’t been for the Krause family. Sure, I’d been pregnant, but I could have raised Alex on my own.

  Don’t think about that now, Sloan, I told myself as I crossed the street and headed for April’s office. Now was as good a time as any to have a conversation with her.

  In addition to her duty as Leavenworth’s welcome woman, April worked as a real estate agent. Her office was located in a warehouse that had been refurbished to look like a German beer hall. The flags of Germany, the United States, and Leavenworth city flew on poles outside, and flyers for lakefront cabins and mountain getaways were taped to the windows.

  When I stepped inside, the space smelled like cheap perfume and stale coffee.

  “Is April in?” I asked the receptionist.

  She chomped a wad of gum and held up a finger. “I’ll check. Who is asking?”

  “Tell her that Sloan Krause is here.” I took a seat in an uncomfortable faux leather chair and thumbed through a Leavenworth brochure.

  I could hear April’s shrill pitch on the other end of the phone when the receptionist called her. “Be right up,” she screeched and then appeared around the corner before the receptionist had even had a chance to hang up the phone.

  “Sloan, what a delight.” She clapped her hands together. “I had a feeling I would be seeing you, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. You are much more pulled together than I realized.” Her glaring red lipstick looked as if it had been applied by a toddler.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Property, of course.” She glanced at the receptionist, covered her mouth with one hand, and then spoke loudly enough for everyone within a mile radius to hear her. “The divorce. I’m guessing you want to get a head start on securing property, and I don’t blame you, dear. In fact, I’m very impressed that you’re thinking so strategically.”

  “Can we go talk in your office?” I asked, with a nod to the receptionist.

  “Of course. I’m so sorry. I should have thought you would want privacy at a time like this. I mean, a cheating husband.” She made a tsking sound. “It must be so terribly embarrassing for you.”

  If I could have kicked myself without looking ridiculous, I would have. It was my own doing. As curious as I was about the rift between Eddie and Bruin, no amount of time spent with April Ablin was worth it.

  “Hold all of my calls,” April said to the receptionist with a dramatic flip of her wrist. “And bring us some coffee, or maybe tea. Yes, I think a delicate situation like this requires tea.”

  The receptionist gave me a sympathetic smile as I followed April to her office. I felt sorry for her. Spending five minutes with April was punishment enough; I couldn’t imagine working for the woman.

  April’s office was an extension of her obsession with all things German. Every square inch of wall space was taken over with Oktoberfest and Maifest posters, photos of German chalets, and cuckoo clocks. I counted at least thirty. They all ticked in a weird rhythm together. I wondered what it sounded like in the small square office when they all cuckooed on the hour.

  “Have a seat,” April said, motioning to the red love seat with throw pillows arranged to look like the German flag.

  I tossed a lederhosen-clad teddy bear to the side and sat on the soft couch. My body sunk into the oversized pillows, making April tower over me from behind her ornate baroque desk. I wondered if she’d stolen the desk and matching chair from Ludwig’s castle.

  “Sloan, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you’ve come to me for help. I wanted to mention it earlier, but didn’t want to overstep my bounds, you know.” She put her hand over her heart. “I’ve been wanting to reach out, but didn’t want to pressure you. I’ve lost sleep over this. I’m just so worried about you.”

  Her concern was about as genuine as her fake barmaid costume.

  I clenched my teeth. “Thanks.” I started to explain that I hadn’t come for help or real estate advice, but she interrupted.

  “I mean it’s such a scandal. Everyone is shocked. I suppose we shouldn’t be. After all, the man did enjoy chasing skirts, but I thought that was in fun. My heart is absolutely broken for you.”

  The receptionist arrived with a tray of tea and a plastic plate with store-bought gingerbread that looked like cardboard.

  “Put that right here,” April said, clearing a space on the desk. “And be sure to shut the door behind you. We’re having a very private conversation, and you know how important discretion is to me.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  April poured us both a cup of tea, and I had to stand up to reach mine across the intimidating desk. “Do drink something. I’m sure it will make you feel better and then we can get down to business. Mac will never know what hit him. You’ve spoken to a lawyer already, right? I should probably get their name so we can coordinate our attack.”

  “I’m not here about an attack, April.” The teacup was scalding. I carefully balanced it on my knees. It smelled weak.

  “However you want to term it is fine with me. Just know that I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

  “I’m not here to talk about property or anything about Mac for that matter.”

  Her face dropped. “Oh.”

  The tea was burning my knees, so I sat up and rested it on the edge of the desk.

  “Why are you here?” Her voice couldn’t conceal her disappointment.

  “I wanted to ask you about Eddie and Bruin.”

  She perked up and gave me a cunning smile. “Do tell.”

  “I heard that there might have been tension between them?”

  “More than tension. In fact, I would call their relationship contentious. Bruin was about to fire Eddie.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sloan, as I’m sure you know, one of my roles as Leavenworth’s ambassador is to keep my finger on the pulse of everything going on in town.”

  That was an interesting spin on being a gossip, but I nodded politely and waited for April to continue.

  “I spend a good amount of time making sure I know exactly who is up to what around here.” She plucked two cubes of sugar from a crystal bowl and dropped them in her tea. “Bruin had had it with Eddie’s behavior, and between you and me, I don’t blame him. Those ugly tattoos and surly attitude have no place in our village. It’s our duty as patrons of America’s Bavaria to uphold the standards of our German ancestors.”

  I wanted to ask her if Ablin was a German surname, but decided against it. She was talking, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Bruin put up with Eddie for too long, if you ask me. He has finally been coming around to understanding his role in keeping Leavenworth on the map as the premier German des
tination in the United States. We all have a responsibility to uphold. If we let our standards slip, imagine what could happen.”

  “What do you mean, Bruin was coming around?” He hadn’t sounded like he was coming around to anything involving April when I’d spoken to him earlier.

  “You’ve seen his place. It does not fit the vision that we have for expansion.”

  “Expansion?”

  “Yes, haven’t you read the town council meeting notes? You should really come to the monthly meetings, you know. As a citizen, you have an obligation to.”

  “I’ve been pretty busy.”

  “That’s no excuse, Sloan. I’ll give you a pass this month, what with the scandal and all, but I expect to see you there next month.” She stared at me, waiting to pounce if I protested. “We’ve outgrown the village square and need to push outside of downtown. Bruin’s property is one of the first places visitors see when they arrive at the train station, and it simply won’t do to have their initial impression of our town be a grungy hunting lodge.”

  “And Bruin is okay with changing the look of the brewery?”

  “Well, I’m working on it, and I’m confident he’s starting to see things my way. I think Eddie was a terrible influence on him.” She shuddered as she spoke. “He wanted to make Leavenworth feel like Seattle or—worse—Portland. We can’t let that happen. With him gone, Bruin is warming to the idea of making Bruin’s Brewing more in line with Beervaria.”

  That wasn’t what he had said to me, but I kept quiet. “You think that Eddie and Bruin were fighting over changing the design of the pub?”

  “No, no, they were fighting about everything. Bruin didn’t elaborate, but he was going to fire Eddie, and from what I heard, it sounded like soon.”

  “And you’re sure this wasn’t a rumor?”

  “Positive.” She reached for another cube of sugar. “He was already on the hunt for a new brewer. In fact, he e-mailed me and asked me to post something on the community pages board.”

  “Really?”

  She looked smug. “Yes, Eddie’s days at Bruin’s Brewing were numbered.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” I said almost to myself.

  April wrapped her hands around her teacup. “Now, about you. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about property?”

  “Thanks, April, but I need some time.”

  She opened a drawer on the desk and pressed her business card into my hand. “This has my cell in case you don’t have it. Call me anytime. I’m here for you, and I will make sure you get a great deal.”

  I stood and tucked the card into my bag. “Will do. Thanks for the tea.”

  “Anytime,” she called in her sugary voice. “You take care of yourself. I’ll be keeping an eye on Mac for you.”

  Great. Just what I needed, April Ablin keeping an eye on my private life. I made my way to the reception desk and outside before she could stop me. What I really I needed was some fresh air. April’s overpowering perfume had given me a headache. I also wanted to think about what she’d just revealed. If Bruin and Eddie were fighting, could Bruin have decided to end their battle with murder?

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO dwell on my conversation with April or consider Bruin as a suspect, because when I pushed open the front door at Nitro, I was greeted with a line of a dozen or more people waiting for drinks at the bar.

  Garrett towered over the line and gave me a shrug of surprise. I hurried to drop my things off in the office and tie an apron around my waist.

  “When did you open?” I asked, squeezing behind the bar and reaching for a clean pint glass.

  “Ten minutes ago. I was going to wait until four, but there was a line.”

  “That’s a good sign,” I said as I poured a frothy pint of Pucker Up and handed it across the bar to one of the waiting customers. “See? I told you that people like your beer. There’s no other excuse this afternoon.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know about that.”

  “What?”

  He leaned closer and whispered, “Look to your left.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and peered around him. Chief Meyers was seated at the table in front of the window and appeared to be canvassing the pub. Her steely eyes caught mine, and she gave me a nod of acknowledgment. “What is she doing here?”

  Garrett wiped foam from the side of a pint glass. “She didn’t say. She showed up right after you left and said that she was here to observe.”

  “Observe? Observe what?”

  “No idea.” He held the full pint glass to the light. “This doesn’t look cloudy to you, does it?”

  The golden beer looked like glass. I could see Garrett’s smoky brown eyes through it. “Not at all.”

  “Good. There’s nothing worse than unfiltered beer in my opinion.”

  I agreed with him. Like anything else, craft brewing went through trends, and one of the current trends was to skip the filtration process. Filtering ensured that a beer would be bright and clean. Without filtering, beers ended up cloudy with chunks of yeast and hops that settled to the bottom of the glass. I didn’t want my beers to be chunky and couldn’t wrap my head around why brewers were so enamored with the trend.

  Once we’d poured pints for the line, I went over to check in with Chief Meyers. Her bulky frame took up the entire stool. She was writing on a carbon paper form when I approached the high-top table. I didn’t even know that anyone used carbon copies anymore.

  “Sloan.” She didn’t look up from her notes.

  “Can I get you anything? A beer?”

  “I’m on duty.”

  “Right. A soda? Water?”

  She shook her head and clicked her ballpoint pen. “I’m fine. Sit.”

  I slid out the stool opposite from her and sat down. I had to place one hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing. It’s a nervous habit I picked up as a kid.

  “Did you find anything on the hotel’s surveillance camera?” I asked.

  “They’re sending it over. Haven’t seen it yet.” Her uniform was rumpled, and her short-cropped hair was greasy. I wondered if she had slept since Eddie had been killed. Things like this didn’t happen in Leavenworth, and I knew that Chief Meyers saw it as her personal responsibility to bring Eddie’s killer to justice.

  “How’s the rest of the investigation going?” I asked Chief Meyers.

  She studied me for a moment. Her eyes were piercing and made me feel like I was in trouble. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  “Me?”

  “I told you to keep an eye open, Sloan, not interrogate everyone in town.” She stared at me with her dark, steely eyes as if daring me to lie.

  “I guess I’ve asked around a little. I feel responsible, given that I found Eddie’s body and that he was killed here.”

  She watched someone behind me for a moment and then focused back on me. “I get it. But if our perp has killed once, there’s good chance he or she could kill again if antagonized.”

  “Wait, are you saying that Eddie’s death might have been random? Not personal?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m warning you to watch your back.”

  My foot bounced on the cement floor. Had I unintentionally put myself—or worse, Alex—in danger by trying to make sure that Mac didn’t get sent to jail permanently? “Do you have any leads?”

  “None that I can share with you.” She clicked the pen in a steady rhythm.

  “But you’re not suggesting that we have a serial killer on the loose in Leavenworth or anything?”

  “I’m not suggesting or denying anything. Can’t.” She tapped her badge. “Duty.” Her eyes wandered to the bar. “What else can you tell me about your business partner?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

  “Probably not more than what you’ve already heard from the gossip mill around here.” I glanced behind me. Garrett’s elbows were resting on the bar as he chatted with a guy holding a taste
r of beer. I bit back a smile when he caught my eye and held up a Dorito. “He came from Seattle, where he worked in technology, and decided to open Nitro after his aunt Tess died.”

  “Yep.” Chief Meyers wrote something in the margin of the carbon paper.

  I’d thought we were past her considering Garrett a suspect, too. Mac had finally been cleared, and now she was focusing her attention on my boss.

  “What about this alleged break-in?”

  “Alleged?”

  “We only have Garrett’s word.”

  “I saw the office. It was trashed. Someone definitely broke in.”

  “Or someone made it look like a break-in.” She gave me a hard look. “It’s not a coincidence, if you ask me, that Nitro had a break-in and a murder in the span of a few hours.”

  Chief Meyers gave me a knowing look and then shifted her body weight. I almost thought she might lose her balance and topple off the stool, but she caught herself at the last moment and tugged at her belt. “Civilians trust you, Sloan. Keep an eye out for me and report back any strange behavior immediately. I’m relying on you, and like I said, be careful. Be smart.”

  She didn’t say anything more, but her tone made it clear that I was being dismissed. I returned to the bar wondering why she had turned her attention to Garrett. Was that why she was camped out here? Was she watching him for suspicious behavior or activity?

  “Well, what did she say?” Garrett asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied. There was no need to worry him. I trusted my instincts, and my instincts told me that Garrett was no killer.

  “You look worried, Sloan.” He handed me the bowl. “Dorito?”

  “No thanks.”

  He whistled. “Turning down Doritos. That’s bad. She’s watching me, isn’t she?”

  “No,” I lied again. “I was thinking about our keg situation.”

  “Yeah, right. Good try.” He smiled.

  I hadn’t gotten used to the fact that Garrett was astute at reading people, including me.

  “Hey, she can camp out as long as she wants. I think it’s pretty funny, actually. You know the joke is always cops hanging around doughnut shops, but here in Leavenworth, the cops hang out at my pub. I’m good with that.” He sounded sincere, and nothing about his body language made him appear worried.