by Joyce Tremel
But now there was nothing pressing to keep me occupied, so my thoughts were filled with what had happened at the Galaxy. Wearing a path on my floor wasn’t going to accomplish anything. I found a notepad and a pen and plopped down on the sofa. I wrote down everything I remembered about both conversations with Dominic—if I could even call them that. The first instance in Candy’s bakery hadn’t scared me, but the one today certainly had. He’d not only threatened me verbally, he had grabbed my arm.
But what to do about it?
I could report the incident to the police, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. They would advise me to stay away from Dominic and warn him not to make threats. There was also the chance it would get back to my dad. Dad was pretty levelheaded except where his kids were concerned. I didn’t want him confronting Dominic. I wanted to find proof that the bar owner was responsible for Kurt’s death and the vandalism first.
The problem was, talking to Dominic myself again wasn’t a good idea. I supposed I could take someone with me, but I wasn’t willing to put anyone else in that situation. I thought about it awhile. The best approach might be to find out as much as I could about him, and why he was so sure I would be the cause of his business failing. I jotted down the names of neighboring business owners I could speak to.
I yawned as I stood and stretched. It was good to have a plan. Finally sleepy, I headed to bed.
* * *
My parents lived in an eighty-year-old, four bedroom, yellow-brick house on a double lot in the Highland Park section of Pittsburgh, not too far from the zoo and the reservoir. As I parked on the street, I could already hear the sounds of the pickup touch football game that broke out in the backyard just about every Sunday. It didn’t matter what time of the year it was—rain, snow, cold, or hot didn’t deter anyone. The number of participants varied depending on who was around. There was always a neighbor or two in addition to Dad and my brothers, and sometimes their friends. Mom preferred the sidelines, but I’d sure gotten my share of scraped knees and elbows growing up. During my years in Germany, I managed to enlist some friends to play. My apartment had been near a local park, and we’d meet up there on Sunday afternoons. The Europeans in the group never quite got the hang of playing American football. It had been fun, but it wasn’t the same.
I’d just gotten out of the car when the football came sailing over the top of the two-story house. I ran across the sidewalk and into the front yard and made the catch. A few seconds later, Mike trotted around the side of the house.
“It’s about time you got here,” he said. “We need another running back.”
I tossed the ball back to him. “That was quite a throw. Any longer and it’d be down in the reservoir.” I walked back over to the car and retrieved the brownies I’d made after Mass that morning and handed a large box containing four growlers of stout to Mike. I wasn’t sure how many people would be here, so I hoped four half-gallon jugs would be enough.
“I’d say I threw it, but I’d be lying. Jake hurled that one.”
“Jake’s here?” I glanced down at my attire. Denim cutoffs and my old Lynn Swann jersey. Great way to make an impression. Then again, it didn’t really matter. Jake had seen me dressed like this every Sunday growing up. Although, if I’d known he was going to be here, I probably would have worn something else.
“Of course he is,” Mike said as we headed to the house. “Thanks for hiring him, by the way. He probably didn’t tell you, but no one else would even give him a shot. He must have applied at twenty places. He has the credentials, but no one took him seriously because he played hockey.”
“He didn’t tell me any of that. Now I’m doubly glad I hired him.” I held the front door for Mike, since he was carrying the beer, and we went inside. “He’s a really good cook. It’s a shame no one would give him a chance.”
“Well, you did.” We stopped in the center hallway. “So, are you holding up all right?” he asked. “Sean said there’s a service tomorrow night?”
“I’m doing okay.” And I was. Every day got a little better. It helped that I was so busy. “Kurt wasn’t Catholic, but I wanted to do something for him, since there wouldn’t be a funeral here.”
“I’ll try to make it,” Mike said. “By the way, how’s that water line holding up?”
I told him it was fine, and we parted ways. Mike cut through the dining room on the right and out the French doors to the patio, where I was sure a cooler would be ready for the beer. Opposite the dining room that Mike passed through was the living room, and just beyond that was a stairway to the second floor. The hallway continued past the staircase to the kitchen, at the back of the house, which was where I headed.
My parents had recently remodeled their kitchen. They’d talked about it for ten years before Mom had finally decided to part with the birch cabinets that had survived six children. The kitchen now boasted dark cherry cabinets and a laminate countertop that looked like granite. Part of the money she’d saved by not installing granite had been put toward the farmhouse sink she’d always wanted. It was my favorite item in the kitchen as well.
Mom was at the sink rinsing some dishes and watching the football game through the picture window. She jumped when I came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek.
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on me like that,” she said with a smile. She dried her hands and gave me a hug.
“How else am I going to keep you on your toes?” I put the pan of brownies on the counter. “What can I help with?”
“Not a thing. Dad’s going to put some hamburgers on the grill. I already have a tossed salad and potato salad made.” She folded the towel she’d been holding and placed it on the counter. “I am so glad you came today. How are you?”
I thought I was done with tears, but there was something about Mom asking me how I was that made me swallow hard before answering. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I nodded. “I won’t say it’s been easy, but it’s getting better.”
“How is it working out with Jake?”
The kitchen door opened and Jake burst in. He wore an ancient Pirates T-shirt and even rattier shorts. It was nice to see him dressed worse than I was. Somehow he managed to make them look good.
“Uh-oh. I think I just heard my name. That can’t be good.”
Mom and I laughed. “I was just about to tell Mom what a horrible employee you are,” I said.
“And you’re a slave driver,” Jake said.
“Only because you’re a slacker.”
Mom shook her head. “I see some things never change. Can I get you something, Jake?”
“No thanks,” he said. “I was really coming in to drag Max outside. Mike’s team could use some help.”
“So your team’s winning?” I said.
Jake grinned. “We’re losing. I thought a handicap—”
“Are you calling me a handicap?”
“If the shoe fits . . .” He shrugged.
I poked him on the chest. “Prepare to lose, Lambert. Big-time.”
* * *
After the game—which Mike’s team won—we all sat on the patio with glasses of the stout I’d brought. A few of the neighbors who’d played ball with us hung around for a while, but at the moment it was just me, Mom, Dad, Jake, Sean, and Mike and his wife, Kate. Kate wasn’t a tomboy like me and hadn’t participated in the game, but she’d done her part cheering from the sidelines while keeping her two girls from trying to get in on the action. Right now, my nieces—Maire, who was four, and Fiona, who was two—were rolling the football around on the lawn. They looked like miniature Kates with their white-blond hair and blue eyes. We chatted about lots of things, but we only touched on Kurt’s death briefly when Sean passed on the details of the memorial service the following evening. Maire and Fiona insisted I bring Hops to visit them, and I promised to do that
as soon as her leg was healed. It was a peaceful afternoon and just what I needed. Surrounded by the cocoon of my family, I could almost forget the events of the past week.
At one point, I looked over at Jake, and for a second I thought I caught him watching me, but he turned his head so fast I wasn’t sure. Wishful thinking on my part. I sighed inwardly and told myself to knock it off. Even when he got over whatever had happened with his fiancée, I was still Mike’s kid sister. Eventually, I got up to use the powder room. When I returned, Dad was putting the burgers on the grill and Mom and Kate were in the kitchen. Sean, Mike, and Jake were engrossed in some sports talk, so I ambled over to the grill. “Need some help, Dad?”
“Not really, but you can keep me company.” He put the last patty on the grate, closed the lid, and turned the heat down. “Any more vandalism at the brewery?”
There hadn’t been, so I wasn’t lying when I told him no. “Has the medical examiner said any more about Kurt?”
Dad shook his head. “He won’t, sweetie.”
I knew that would be his answer. It didn’t mean I had to like it. “I know you’re sure Kurt’s death was an accident, but I’m still convinced it wasn’t. I’m not going to let it go. I can’t.”
Dad put his arm around me and pulled me close. “I wouldn’t expect any less of my little girl.”
* * *
Jake and I were the last ones to leave that evening. Mike, Kate, and the girls left shortly after dinner and Sean took off right after that. I helped Mom in the kitchen while Jake and Dad redd up the patio and yard. When everything was spic-and-span, Jake helped me carry the empty growlers and the leftovers Mom insisted we take out to my car.
“Thanks,” I said.
He nodded. There was an awkward silence, then he said, “About the other night . . .”
I waited, mainly because I had no idea what to say.
“I want to apologize. It was supposed to be a special night celebrating my new job, and I ruined it.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It was a nice dinner.”
“But I do.” He leaned against my car. “I shouldn’t let Victoria get to me like that.”
“It’s perfectly understandable. You were planning to marry her.” I was dying to know what had happened between them, but I was afraid to ask. I didn’t want to hear he was still in love with her. I asked anyway and braced myself for the answer.
“It’s a long story,” he said.
“So? I’d like to hear it.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
We went back and forth like this a couple more times until I convinced him I really did want to know what happened. I needed to check on the kitten, so we decided he would follow me home. Jake made coffee while I fed Hops and made sure she hadn’t destroyed anything in my absence. Fortunately, all she’d done was shred some toilet paper and scatter some litter across the floor. When the coffee was brewed, we settled down on the sofa and Hops made herself comfortable on Jake’s lap.
“I think she likes you,” I said.
Jake grinned. “All the women do.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so full of it.”
“Murp.” It appeared Hops agreed.
“So, let’s hear that long story,” I said.
“Maybe it’s shorter than I thought,” Jake said. “Basically, Victoria dumped me because I wasn’t playing hockey anymore.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Are you serious? I can’t believe someone would do that.”
“I couldn’t believe it at first, either,” Jake said. “I thought everything was great. She and her mother were looking at places for the reception, and she’d hired some famous designer to make her dress. Now that I look back on it, I should have known.”
“How could you know? It doesn’t sound like anything was wrong.” Other than that she was totally wrong for you. Of course I didn’t say that. I put my cup down on the end table.
“There were signs. I just didn’t see them. Or maybe I didn’t want to see them.”
“Like what?”
“Any place that I suggested for the wedding wasn’t good enough. It had to be somewhere fancy. And expensive. The more upscale, the better. She wanted me to get a custom-made tuxedo instead of renting one like everyone does around here. When I told her I wasn’t going to shell out that much money for something I’d wear once, she looked at me like I had two heads. She probably had plans for me to wear it every weekend to whatever event she was going to drag me to. She and her mother are on the board of just about every charity, so there would be a lot of them.”
“Good thing you were out of town so much.”
“Yeah. Then she started criticizing what I wore. I bought a pair of jeans at a Walmart and she just about had a heart attack.” He pointed to his shirt. “This would have given her nightmares for a week.”
“Jake, I hate to say it, but you should be glad she broke it off.”
“I am now, but I sure wasn’t at the time. Coming home, I realized she’s definitely not the one for me.” He finished his coffee and put the cup on the coffee table. “I think what set me off the other night is that she’s still trying to run my life. She thinks—well, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. I’m done with her.” He lifted Hops from his lap and placed her on the sofa. “I’d better get going. I have to be at work bright and early tomorrow or my boss might regret hiring me.”
The conversation was far from over. There was a lot more I wanted to know, but he was right—it was late, and I didn’t want to push him. I walked him to the door. “Your boss would understand. I hear she’s a fantastic person.”
Jake smiled. “That she is.” He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, which he’d done before, but this time his lips lingered just a little bit longer. “See you tomorrow,” he said.
I closed the door behind him, then leaned on it, grinning stupidly to myself.
* * *
It was going to be a busy Monday, so I left Hops at home. I called Mom and asked if she could check on her sometime during the day, and she said she would. I had planned on walking to work, but with our schizophrenic May weather, the temperature had dropped from seventy degrees yesterday to fifty today—and it was raining. So I grabbed an umbrella and a jacket and headed for my car.
After parking in the lot beside the brewery, my first stop was Cupcakes N’at. The bakery was busy. Customers stood three-deep at the counter but it didn’t faze Candy at all. She smiled and chatted them up, and no one seemed to be grumpy while waiting. It would have been different if Dominic had been one of them. I breathed easier knowing he wasn’t. I must have been the last customer of the morning rush. When it was finally my turn, I was the only one left. “I think I scared everyone away,” I said.
“You wish,” Candy said with a laugh. “You couldn’t scare a fly.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Someone was frightened enough of me to try to keep the brewpub from opening. “I’m just happy not to run into Dominic this morning.”
“Don’t let him bother you. I’ve known Dom for years. He’s all talk.”
“Then explain to me why he grabbed my arm and threatened me when I went to see him on Saturday.” I told her what happened.
Candy frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Dom. At all. I wonder what got into him. He’s always been a little grouchy, but he’s never laid a hand on anyone except for drunks who got out of hand in the bar.”
“I sure don’t fit that category. And grouchy doesn’t begin to describe the way he acted. He was livid. He accused me of forcing him out of business. I tried to explain I had no intention of doing anything like that but he wouldn’t listen. He said he’d keep me from opening if it’s the last thing he does.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Candy asked.
I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea. If he’s the one who killed Kurt—”
“Do you really think he did?”
“Yes, I do. He’s the only one who’s threatened me. I haven’t talked to everyone yet, but no one else seems to be dead set against a brewpub in the neighborhood.”
“I wouldn’t say there’s no one else.”
“Who, then?”
“Wait here.” Candy disappeared into the back of the store and returned with a bright blue sheet of paper. “Here’s at least one other person who doesn’t like what you’re doing.”
She passed the paper across the top of the glass bakery case and I read it. It was a flyer for Save Our Lawrenceville, an organization I’d never heard of. The first sentence read:
Stop the destruction of our historic landmark.
I looked at Candy and raised an eyebrow.
“Keep reading,” she said.
The last of the historic Steel City Brewery buildings is being turned into a modern restaurant and bar and scheduled to open soon. We at Save Our Lawrenceville must stop this travesty! Our former brewery proudly served the Pittsburgh area for over a century through two world wars and even survived Prohibition! It must be granted landmark status by any means necessary. Come to the meeting on Thursday evening to help us make this possible. It’s not too late!
Although I wasn’t familiar with the organization, I recognized the name at the bottom of the page. Frances Donovan. “Looks like she’s at it again,” I said.
“You know this Frances Donovan?”
“Sort of. I’ve never actually met her, but when I first put in an offer for my building, she’d been working to get it declared a historic landmark. She wanted to turn it into some kind of museum.”
“A museum? That’s ridiculous. Let me get this straight. The place used to be a brewery. It’s a brewery again, but she wants to put a stop to it and stuff it full of old things?”