To Brew or Not to Brew

by Joyce Tremel

  “That would depend,” Elmer said. “But, yeah, it could.”

  I continued my story. “On Monday night, Kurt stayed late to work on a cake recipe that he didn’t think was perfect yet. He called me and said he knew who had been causing the problems. He’d found something but wouldn’t tell me what it was. He thought it was better to show me.” My voice shook and I paused.

  Candy patted my arm. “You’re doing fine.”

  “When I got there, I didn’t see Kurt anywhere. I thought he’d left for some reason. I should have known something was wrong when I found cherries and whipped cream sitting out on the counter. Kurt would have put them in the refrigerator if he’d gone anywhere. I finally called his cell phone and heard it ringing in the brewery. I followed the sound and found him.”

  The room was quiet when I finished. Elmer was the first to speak up. “Yep. Sounds like murder to me. If you need a bodyguard, young lady, I’m available.”

  It was the nicest thing I’d ever heard him say. “Thank you, Elmer. I appreciate the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “What about suspects?” Elmer asked. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

  “There’s a bar owner who thinks I’ll run him out of business.” I was surprised that Candy only made a face at this and didn’t jump to his defense. “Other than that, I’m at a loss. Everyone else in the neighborhood seems to like the idea of the pub. It’ll bring more traffic to their stores.”

  Kristie agreed. “The busier the street is, the more business I get.”

  “Same here,” Candy said. “It could be someone who doesn’t want the extra traffic, or someone who plain just doesn’t want a pub in there.”

  Pearl drummed her fingers on the table. “The killer doesn’t necessarily have to be someone from the neighborhood. Your father is a police officer, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Perhaps someone has a grudge against him and is taking it out on you,” Pearl said.

  “I don’t buy it,” Elmer said. “If someone had a grudge against her pop, he’d come after Max. He wouldn’t waste his time messing with the pub.”

  We went through a few more options but didn’t come up with a thing.

  One of the librarians opened the door and motioned for Amanda. She excused herself and said she’d be right back.

  “I’m sorry we weren’t more help,” Pearl said. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  I was out of ideas. “Just keep your eyes and ears open, I guess.”

  “I still think we should stake out your place,” Kristie said.

  “Ooh,” Candy said. “That’s a great idea. We’d be just like Charlie’s Angels.”

  “The Three Stooges would be more like it,” Elmer said.

  I had to agree with him. The last thing I wanted was help to stake out my own pub. If I came right out and told them no, they’d try to talk me into it, so I just said, “Let me think about it.”

  “What’s to think about?” Kristie asked.

  “I have to check my schedule,” I lied. We went back and forth a couple of times, with both Kristie and Candy insisting I never did anything but work.

  Kristie attempted to get in the last word. “I say we meet at eleven tomorrow night. We can sit in the coffee shop and watch the front of the building.”

  “What about the back?” Candy asked. “Someone needs to watch the alley.”

  “You may as well count me in,” Elmer said. “I’ll keep an eye on the back door.”

  This was ridiculous. I jumped up. “No. Absolutely not. I appreciate the offer, and I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can’t allow it. You’re forgetting that Kurt was murdered in cold blood. I am not going to put any of you in danger just so you can play detective.”

  Amanda took that moment to come back to the room. “I’m sorry about that. Someone had a question about a new children’s book.” No one said anything, and she looked at me. “Did I miss something?”

  “Nothing important,” I said.

  “Max is being a spoilsport, that’s all,” Kristie said to Amanda. She turned to me. “I still think it’s a good idea.”

  Maybe it was, but every word I’d said was true. I couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt. Or worse. If anyone was going to stake out the pub, it would be me. Alone.

  * * *

  I went right home from the library. I planned to take a two-hour nap, then head to the brewery. Other than last night when the alarm had gone off, I had no idea what time the break-ins had occurred. Whoever it was seemed to know my schedule—or at least when the brewery was empty. Except for the night Kurt was killed, that is. Had the killer expected it to be empty? Or had he gone after Kurt because Kurt had figured out his identity?

  I changed into old jeans and a T-shirt, stretched out on my bed, and closed my eyes, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. I tried some deep breathing but I was still wired and couldn’t fall asleep. Thirty minutes later, I gave up. I guessed I’d start my stakeout early.

  Butler Street was busy no matter the time of day or night. It was one of the main arteries through Lawrenceville and eventually merged with Penn Avenue, which ran into downtown Pittsburgh. Between the cars driving by and those that were parked, my car wouldn’t be the only one on the street. Not that my old Corolla was all that recognizable. I just didn’t want Kurt’s killer to see it. If he knew it was my car, he might change his mind. I didn’t want to park in the lot beside the pub because it would be too obvious, even though that would be the best vantage point to see both the front and back of the building. Parking on the street would limit me to watching the front of the pub only. If I couldn’t find anything on the street, my default plan was to park in the lot across the street beside the deli. I drove around the block once before choosing a spot three storefronts up on the opposite side of the street. It was late, so the deli, as well as Adam’s boutiques next to it, was closed.

  I could see the front door and windows easily from my vantage point. If the killer had stolen Kurt’s keys and tried using them on the front door, he’d have a surprise coming. I realized then I should have brought a camera with me. I could always use the one on my phone, but there was no zoom feature on it. I made a mental note to bring the camera next time. If there was a next time.

  Shortly after eleven, a police car drove by and slowed as it passed the pub. I slid down in my seat, even though I was on the opposite side of the street and the officer was looking in the other direction. The last thing I needed was for my dad to discover what I was doing. By midnight traffic had dwindled a bit, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Not to mention the fact that I’d forgotten to bring a jacket and I was shivering because the temperature had dropped into the fifties. I didn’t want to call it a night just yet, so I decided to spend the next hour inside the pub. I’d have to keep the alarm off, but I could always use the panic-alarm button if I had to. Or I could lock myself in my office and call 911.

  Inside, I locked the door behind me and took a quick walk-through. Finding everything in order, I went to my office. I flipped through the bills that were due and put them in the order I wanted to pay them. I jotted down some notes for what I needed to do over the weekend and soon found myself nodding off. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I’d just rest them for a few minutes.

  When I opened my eyes again, it took a few seconds to remember where I was. I glanced at the clock on the wall—two o’clock. I’d been asleep for an hour. Sheesh. Time to go home. I gathered up my purse and keys, then went to make sure the back door was locked. I rattled the knob, and as I turned away I thought I heard a scratching sound outside the door. I shook the knob again and the sound repeated. I did so once more, but this time the sound was accompanied by a faint mew.

  “What the heck?” I said out loud. There was a dusk-to-dawn light outside the door, but I flicked on another light anyway, then unl
ocked the door and eased it open a few inches. A cat—really just a kitten—sat outside. It let out the most pitiful mew I’d ever heard, and my heart melted. We’d had various dogs growing up and I’d always wanted a cat, but my mother had insisted a dog was more than enough. With the large household she had to take care of, she was probably right.

  The kitten meowed again. It was holding one front paw up and the leg didn’t look quite right to me. I reached down and scooped him up. “Well, hello, little fella.” I turned him over on his back and held him like a baby. “Make that hello, little girl. You’re a girl kitty, aren’t you?”

  The mostly gray tabby yipped in response. The fur on her belly and up her neck was white, although a little dirty. Her paws looked like she was wearing white boots or socks. I gently touched the leg that didn’t look quite right—the one she’d been holding up. She squirmed and let out a whimper. I couldn’t see exactly what was wrong, but something definitely was. She wasn’t wearing a collar, but that didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t belong to someone. Even if she did, I wasn’t about to leave her to fend for herself. She couldn’t be more than three months old. I’d take her home with me and figure the rest out tomorrow.

  On the way home, I stopped at the Giant Eagle grocery, which was open twenty-four hours. I locked the kitten in the car while I went inside and purchased some kitten food, two bowls, and a small box of litter. I had plenty of boxes at home that would substitute as a litter box until I found out whether she belonged to someone. When I returned to the car, she was curled up on the passenger seat, sound asleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Two tiny green eyes stared at me when I woke up the next morning. The kitten sat on my chest and made a noise that sounded more like a chirp than a meow. Maybe she was letting me know she was hungry. I’d fed her when we got home last night, and after she’d wolfed down a good bit of food, I sat her in the improvised litter box I’d made from a cardboard box lined with a plastic bag. It took her only seconds to figure it out.

  I picked her up, put her on the floor, and she limped behind me to the kitchen. She still wasn’t putting any weight on her front paw. Poor little thing. I thought I should take her to see a vet as soon as possible. She ate all the food I put in her dish. When I went to shower, she followed me into the bathroom and sat on the lilac throw rug until I finished. She followed me to the bedroom and somehow managed to claw her way up the side of the bed. My blue-and-white-striped comforter was in a heap at the foot of the bed. I thought she’d make herself comfortable on there, but she plopped down on the jeans I’d laid out instead. I moved her so I could dress, then she decided my shirt would be a good place to sit. I couldn’t help laughing—she was so comical. Any thoughts I’d had of leaving her here when I went to the pub vanished. There was no way I could leave her alone.

  When we got to the brewery, I made a bed for the kitten in the corner of my office out of an old blanket I brought from home. I’d need to make sure the office door stayed closed. I didn’t want to be accused of any kind of health violation with an animal running loose in a restaurant—even if we weren’t open yet. I put her food and water dishes out and placed her litter box in the other corner of the room. As soon as I was sure she was asleep, I closed the door and went over to Cupcakes N’at to get something to eat. I really needed to stop making a habit out of eating Candy’s treats on a daily basis. Either that or start running again. I wasn’t sure what would be worse. I liked most forms of exercise, but running wasn’t one of them. I guessed I could always get a bike. We were a pretty bike-friendly city.

  The bakery wasn’t busy like it was the last time I’d been here. As a matter of fact, I was the only customer at the moment, which was perfectly fine with me. Candy came out of the kitchen when she heard the bell on the door. “Just the person I wanted to see,” she said.

  That could be good or bad, depending on why she wanted to see me. “Really?”

  “I may have come up with another suspect. I definitely don’t think it’s someone trying to get revenge on your dad. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Elmer on that one.”

  “I do, too. Who did you come up with?”

  “What about Ken Butterfield from the deli? He could be afraid everyone will go to the pub to eat instead of his place.”

  “I don’t know. . . .”

  “It makes as much sense as Dom thinking you’re going to steal all his customers.”

  She had a point, but Ken had never threatened me. He had always been cordial and excited about the brewery. I told her that. “Anyone else?”

  “What about someone Kurt had crossed?”

  “That’s possible, I guess,” I said, “but I have no way of knowing who that could be.”

  “I’m out of ideas, then. But I’ll come up with something.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “And I’m a little miffed that you don’t like our stakeout idea. Why, the three of us—”

  I didn’t let her finish. “I never said I didn’t like it. I said it was too dangerous. Big difference.”

  “We’d be sitting in our cars or in the coffee shop. I don’t see how that could possibly be unsafe. If anyone showed up, we’d call 911. We wouldn’t be dumb enough to confront him. Or her. Or whoever.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. It was easy to imagine Candy jumping out of her car and tackling the guy. I tried another tactic. “It would be a waste of time. I have an alarm, and the police are doing extra drive-bys. Time would be better spent talking to possible suspects, which I plan to do.”

  “And when do you think you’ll have time to do that?”

  “Today. I hope.”

  “Hoping doesn’t make it happen.” Her voice softened. “We just want to help. Kurt was a good man. I didn’t know him anywhere near as long as you, but I liked him a lot. Let us help you with something, even if it’s just brainstorming ideas or trying to come up with some more suspects.”

  I blinked away the tears that suddenly formed in my eyes. I’d met a few generous people in my life, but Candy really took the cake. No pun intended. Kristie, too. “Thanks,” I said. “I could use a few new ideas.”

  Candy beamed. “How about tonight, then? We could all meet at my house.”

  I started to agree, then remembered dinner. “I can’t tonight. I already have plans.”

  “You do?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I can’t remember the last time you did anything but work on a Friday night. You—and Kurt, too—were always there late. Well, maybe not always, but most nights. Not that I keep track of your comings and goings or anything.” She smiled. “Who am I kidding? Of course, I do. Someone’s got to watch out for our little Max.”

  Like I didn’t already have my brothers doing that. “Jake wants to buy me dinner to celebrate his hiring.”

  Candy clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! You have a date! And with a famous hockey player, too.”

  I should have known she’d get the wrong idea. I had to set her straight or, before I knew it, everyone in Lawrenceville—or more like everyone in Pittsburgh—would think Jake and I were an item. “It’s not a date. Jake is just being nice.”

  “You don’t seriously believe that, do you?”

  “Of course I do.” She gave me a look, so I told her more about our background and how we’d grown up together. “He still thinks of me as Mike’s baby sister and always will. I’m okay with that.”

  “I’m not buying it,” Candy said. “There’s something there. You mark my words.” The door chimed then, as another customer came in. She leaned over the counter, and whispered to me, “You had better invite me to the wedding.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Never gonna happen.” With that, I bought a half dozen sweet rolls and left.

  Outside the pub, I almost bumped into Adam Greeley. Or I should s
ay he almost bumped into me. He was walking fast with his head down, not paying attention to where he was going. I dodged him by jumping to the left and in the process dropped my bakery box. At the last minute, he realized what happened and halted before he tramped on it. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess my mind was on something else.”

  Obviously. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  I bent over to pick up the box, but Adam beat me to it. “Here you go,” he said.

  When I took the box from him, I noticed his right hand was bandaged. The gauze wrapped around his entire palm up to the wrist. “What happened?” I asked.

  “This?” He held up his hand. “A mere scratch.”

  The way it was all wrapped up, it looked like more than that to me. I would have just slapped a Band-Aid on a scratch, but then I wasn’t the fussbudget Adam seemed to be. From what I could tell, he went overboard on most things. I unlocked the door and Adam followed me inside.

  “I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, then smiled. “I guess I should say almost ran into you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

  I deactivated the alarm. “Really?”

  “Maybe we could set something up for next week. After the memorial service, of course.”

  Word traveled fast. I hadn’t even told him about the service yet. Candy had probably taken care of that for me. Before I could ask what he wanted to talk about, he glanced at his watch and said he had to run. I’d find out eventually. I put the bakery box on the bar. I had one more stop to make before I went back to work, and I didn’t want to leave the kitten alone for too long.

  I jaywalked across the street to Jump, Jive & Java and made it to the other side unscathed. Pittsburgh drivers were used to pedestrians crossing anywhere they pleased. Sometimes the drivers even stopped and waved you across. If the city ever started ticketing for jaywalking, like some other cities, they’d have a regular revenue stream. And probably a major revolt.