by Joyce Tremel
He slid onto the stool beside me. “I’ll stick around if you don’t mind.”
I nodded. We sat in silence sipping our coffee until Mike came back. He told us he’d given Rich his statement and he was officially dismissed. I assured him I’d be fine, so he went to check on Mom and Kate. They were probably worried, and Mike could let them know what was going on.
I only wish I knew what was going on. How had Dominic Costello ended up murdered—and I was sure he was—in my brewery? “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jake said.
I didn’t realize I’d spoken the words aloud.
“Want to talk about it?”
I wasn’t sure I did. I hadn’t told Jake my theory that Dominic had been the one behind the vandalism and the one who’d killed Kurt. The only one I’d mentioned it to was my father. Not that my theory mattered anymore.
“Then let me start,” Jake said. “There’s a dead guy in the brewery. I have no idea who he is or why he was back there, or even how he got there.”
I let out a sigh. “And you work here and have a right to know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shut you out like that. It’s Dominic Costello. He owns a bar up the street.”
“What was he doing in the brewery?”
“I don’t know.” I told him how Dominic thought I was trying to run him out of business, and that he’d threatened to stop me. I didn’t tell Jake that Dominic had gotten physical with me. There was no point to it now. “I was so sure he was the one breaking in here, but obviously I was wrong.”
Jake shifted to face me. “Maybe not.”
“How do you figure that?” I said. “If he was the one breaking in, and the one who killed Kurt, he wouldn’t be lying back there dead.”
“What if he wasn’t alone? He could have had an accomplice.”
I immediately thought of Ralph Meehan, but he didn’t strike me as the violent type. As disagreeable as he’d been when I’d spoken to him, he’d seemed almost protective of Dominic. Meehan thought I had been the one making threats to Dominic, not the other way around. I mentioned this to Jake.
“Do you think someone was really threatening Costello, or that he only told Meehan that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But what if someone really was? That person could be our killer.”
“Our killer?”
“You know what I mean.” I didn’t get a chance to tell Jake what I was thinking. My dad and Rich Bailey came through the door from the brewery. Dad talked to Jake and asked him a few questions while I went to my office with Rich and gave him my statement. I told him about everything—the vandalism, Kurt, the threats from Dominic, and even Ralph Meehan saying Dom had been threatened. By the time we finished, mostly everyone had cleared out except for a few forensic techs who were still doing their thing in the brewery.
Dad and Rich headed to the station while I waited for the others to finish up. Jake insisted on staying with me even though I told him I was fine by myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want his company—on the contrary—but I didn’t want him to think I was some helpless female.
After the forensic crew left, I helped Jake gather up the empty coffeepot, sugar, cream, and unused cups and took them back to the kitchen. He was rinsing out the pump pot when his phone, which he’d set on the counter, rang. “Can you see who that is?” he said. “My hands are wet.”
I peeked at the display. “It says it’s unregistered.”
“Ignore it, then. There’s no one I want to talk to this late, anyway.”
By the time he’d finished cleaning the pot and dried his hands, the phone rang again and once again he didn’t answer. When it happened a third time, he snatched the phone off the counter and snapped, “Who the hell is this?”
His fingers tightened on the phone and he jammed his other hand into the pocket of his pants. He wasn’t happy about whoever was calling him. I didn’t think it was merely a telemarketer, especially this late at night.
“Victoria. This isn’t a good time.”
Definitely not a telemarketer. I motioned to Jake that I’d be in the pub and left him to talk to his ex in peace. Not that I wanted to. I’d rather have listened in to the conversation, but it really wasn’t any of my business. Jake had made it clear it was over. If he wanted me to know why she was calling, he’d tell me.
And I didn’t believe a word of that. She’d broken it off with him. Not the other way around. What if he still had feelings for her? She could have been calling to say she was sorry and she wanted him back.
Jake pushed through the kitchen door. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s all right.”
He sat on the chair beside me. “That was Victoria.”
“So I heard.”
“She called from a friend’s phone since I wasn’t taking her calls. If I’d have known it was her, I wouldn’t have answered.”
“You can’t avoid her forever.”
“I can try,” Jake said. “Don’t you want to know what she wanted?”
I was dying to know. “It’s none of my business.”
“Someone she knows owns an upscale restaurant in Manhattan and is looking for a chef. She told him I’d be perfect for the job.”
I didn’t think it was possible for this night to get any worse, but it just had. Jake was leaving. Going back to New York, and probably back to Ms. Supermodel. At that moment, I wished he’d never come back to Pittsburgh, because it was going to hurt too much when he left. I’d gotten by for years keeping my feelings for him at bay. I should have kept it up. I never should have hired him knowing how I felt. I should have known this would happen. “That’s great news,” I managed to say. “You deserve a place like that.”
“I turned her down.”
I’d been staring at a spot on the wall across the room so he wouldn’t see what was written all over my face. I turned to look at him. “You what?”
“I told her I have no interest in going back to New York.”
I couldn’t believe it. “But it’s a great opportunity. A fancy Manhattan restaurant? You could really make a name for yourself there.”
“I don’t need any of that.”
“Maybe you should think about it.”
“Why?”
“Would you consider it if Victoria hadn’t been involved?” I asked. “Would you be interested if the restaurant manager didn’t know her and had called you directly?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” He got up and went over to the front window. “I can’t see me being anywhere but here, but you’re right. I should think about it.” He walked back over to me. “How about we call it a night?”
I felt sick. I didn’t actually want him to consider the job. I wanted him to say he was staying in Pittsburgh and had no intention of leaving. Ever. That he didn’t need to think about it at all. That he’d told Victoria to take a flying leap. Why had I opened my big mouth? I mentally kicked myself while I locked up.
It was only after Jake walked me to my car that it dawned on me that neither the alarm nor the motion detectors had gone off while we were at the memorial service. Could I have forgotten to arm the system when I went home at five? It had become second nature to set it, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember one way or the other. Jake and Mom had been the first to arrive after the service. I’d have to ask Jake if it had been on. Even if it had been activated, it wouldn’t have been the first time someone had broken in and not set it off. But the motion sensors should have worked. I made a mental note to call the alarm company to check the system.
Dad hadn’t said it, but Dominic had to have been killed sometime between when I’d closed up at five and the end of the service at eight. I was still bewildered as to why he had been in the brew house. I had been so sure he was behind everything that had happened. Maybe Jake was right that he had an accomplice.
And if he had, it had to be Ralph Meehan. But why would Ralph kill Dominic? It didn’t make any sense.
Until we’d been interrupted first by my dad and Rich, and then by Victoria, I’d meant to tell Jake that if someone really had been threatening Dominic, that person had to be the killer. If Dominic thought I had been the one making the threats like Ralph Meehan said, he may have gone to the brew house to see me. But I didn’t get why he’d do that after he’d warned me to stay away from him. I thought about that for a while. Maybe the killer had lured him there somehow. But surely Dominic would have seen that no one was there and left. It was possible he’d never gotten a chance to leave. He went to look for me in the brewery and then . . . I shuddered, picturing him lying on the floor. That must have been it. He’d never gotten the chance to leave. The killer struck first.
I remembered what Annie told me about the man trying to get into the pub the same night the kitchen drain had been tampered with. I was more sure than ever it was Dominic who’d attempted to enter. I wondered if someone had lured him there that night as well. That night the door had been locked, though. He’d never made entry. Dominic had tried the door, found it locked, and left.
I was too exhausted to think about it anymore. I didn’t even bother washing my face or brushing my teeth. I gave Hops a few treats, then collapsed into bed with the kitten curled up beside me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I hoped the previous evening had been a bad dream, but it was hard to ignore the yellow crime-scene tape strapped across the door to the brewing area. Until my dad and Rich Bailey released the scene, I was basically banned from my own brewery. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I needed to get in there today, tape or no tape.
The neighborhood was quiet when I arrived at six a.m. It was barely light out and the businesses were closed, except for Kristie’s—she opened at five-thirty for the early risers. The bakery opened at seven, so Candy was likely putting the final touches on her wares.
I had tossed and turned all night, with weird dreams of Kurt’s face morphing into Dominic’s alternating with dreams of Jake getting back together with Victoria. I finally gave up on sleep. After a brutally strong cup of coffee and a hot shower, I headed to work. It was going to be a long day, and I didn’t want to leave Hops alone again, so I brought her with me. I locked the door behind me, and after I deposited the kitten in my office, I went to the kitchen to make coffee. I could have gone across the street, but I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet. Although the murder had been kept quiet so far, surely someone had noticed all the police activity. It was just a matter of time before everyone—not to mention the media—found out. The longer I could put it off, the better.
When the coffee was done, I took a mug back to my office and sat at the desk. I slid a notepad in front of me and thought about what I needed to do today. My pen tapping on the desktop was like a beacon to Hops, who jumped up to investigate. It still amazed me she could do that with one leg out of commission. I gave her the pen to play with and picked up another one.
First on the list was to call Nicole, then the other staff we’d just hired. I also had an interview to reschedule. I didn’t want prospective employees coming in when there was crime-scene tape still hanging. By the time seven o’clock rolled around, I had twenty things to do on my list. That required the kind of fortification that only Cupcakes N’at could provide.
The bakery was busy for a Tuesday, but one of Candy’s part-timers was helping behind the counter. As soon as she spotted me, Candy told her she was taking a short break and practically dragged me into the back room. I braced myself for the inevitable bear hug.
“It’s so terrible, Max,” Candy said as she released me. “I can’t believe it happened again!”
“I can’t, either.” I didn’t ask how she found out. Her grapevine could give the NSA a run for its money.
“Poor Dom,” she said. “What in the world was he doing there?”
“That’s the question of the day.”
“To think he was lying there while we were sitting in the pub.” She shuddered. “It’s creepy.”
I couldn’t disagree with that. “I don’t understand how he got in without setting off the alarm.”
“Are you sure you set it?”
“I don’t remember. I thought I did. I’m absolutely positive I locked the door, though. In any case, I need to have the alarm company come out again. If I did activate it, either I’m doing something wrong or it’s not working right.”
“Or someone is bypassing the alarm.”
Candy never ceased to amaze me. “Wouldn’t there be some evidence of that?”
“Not if it’s done right.”
“And you know this how?”
She shrugged. “I read a lot.”
One of these days I was going to have to find out what kind of work she’d done before she became a baker. Espionage wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I hadn’t considered the possibility of someone bypassing the system. It was a question I’d have to ask the alarm company. “Who would know how to do something like that?” I said.
“Certainly not Dom,” Candy said. “We’ll figure it out, though. I suggest we get together later and brainstorm.”
The last brainstorming session at our book club meeting hadn’t accomplished anything. I wasn’t sure a repeat would be any better. “I don’t know when I can fit it in. I have a lot to do today.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” She raised a hand when I objected. “I’ve already discussed it with Kristie and Elmer. We’ll do whatever it takes to figure this thing out.”
Elmer, too? I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes but Candy saw them. She crushed me to her black-and-gold chest.
“Don’t you worry, Max,” she said, patting my back. “It’s going to be all right.”
With friends like this, how could I go wrong?
* * *
“What do you mean I can’t go into my own brewery yet?” I said to Rich Bailey later that morning. “I need to check the fermentation tanks and start another batch.”
“It’s only for another hour. Surely you can wait that long.”
“I don’t understand why.”
Rich scratched his salt-and-pepper mustache, a gesture I’d seen him do a thousand times. Mostly when faced with an obstinate reporter on TV. I had called my dad earlier and left a voice mail asking if I could take the tape down. Instead of calling me back, he’d sent Rich. “We want to take one more look to make sure we didn’t miss anything. As soon as your dad gets here, we’ll be out of your hair as quickly as possible,” he said.
Another hour wouldn’t make or break me, but I was tired and cranky. I wanted to take control of at least one thing—even something as minor as checking my tanks. “I really need to get in there.”
“One hour.” Rich could be as stubborn as my dad, so arguing further wouldn’t do any good.
“Fine,” I said, and stalked back to my office. I was glad I’d told Nicole not to come in—there wouldn’t have been anything for her to do. I’d spoken to Jake earlier and assured him that I was all right. I’d tried to talk him into taking the day off as well, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He was coming in at one.
Hops was sound asleep on a pile of invoices on the top of my desk. As good a reason as any not to pay bills today. I had worked my way through most of my list after returning from the bakery that morning. Someone from the alarm company was coming at four to check the system and go over a few things with me. As I sat there, I thought more about what Candy had said—that maybe the alarm had been tampered with. It was the only explanation that made sense. It didn’t explain, however, why Dominic had been in the brewery to begin with.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Since I had an hour to spare, maybe I could try to find out. I locked my office door behind me so the kitten didn’t escape if anyone came looking for me. As I crosse
d the pub, I spotted the Channel 11 news van through the window. A blond-haired reporter was setting up with a cameraman right in front of the door. Great. That was the last thing I needed. It was just a matter of time before the other stations sent reporters, and I didn’t want to talk to any of them. I turned around, cut through the kitchen, and slipped out the back door.
I stayed in the alley that ran parallel to this section of Butler Street. The alley happened to end at the cross street where the Galaxy and the Good-Value Hardware Store were located. I took a deep breath before I entered the hardware store. There were no customers at the moment and Ralph Meehan looked up expectantly when the bells on the door jingled—until he saw me, that is.
“You have a lot of nerve showing yourself here after what happened to Dom. If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t be dead.” He reached for the phone on the counter. “I’m calling the police.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be happy to wait.” I pulled my cell phone out of the front pocket of my pants. “I’ll even call them for you.”
That must not have been the response he expected because he put the receiver back down. “Don’t bother. Just tell me what you want, then get the hell out.”
I took a seat on one of the stools in front of the counter. “I want to know why Dominic broke into my brew house last night.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull. Dom never broke in anywhere.”
“He most certainly did.”
“Bull. Dom showed me the note you left for him.”
“Note? I never sent him a note.”
“I saw it with my own eyes. You told him you wanted to settle things once and for all and to meet you at the brewery at seven o’clock.”
A chill went through me. “That wasn’t from me.”
“It had your name at the bottom.”
My voice shook. “Mr. Meehan, I never sent Dominic any kind of note.”