Beyond a Reasonable Stout

by Ellie Alexander

  Kat scratched her head. “What should I tell her if I can get through?”

  “Tell her that we’re at the Underground and to come or send help as soon as she can. It might be nothing, but we might need an ambulance if someone is really hurt over there.”

  I twisted my scarf around my chin.

  Garrett was already heading for the door with a flashlight in hand. He stopped and grabbed a coat. “Stick with me, Sloan,” he said, using his weight to push the front door open against the wind.

  I could barely see across the street with the blowing snow. It wasn’t sticking yet, but rather swirling in gusty tornados.

  “Careful,” Garrett cautioned, tightening his grip on my arm, and maneuvering around a ten-foot branch that blocked the patio entrance. “Watch your step.”

  “I see it.” I let him help me as I stepped over the branch.

  The wind pierced my eardrums.

  “Maybe this is a bad idea,” Garrett called above the roar. “You should go back. I’ll go on my own.”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s just across the street. I can make it.”

  It was nearly impossible to stay upright. Each gust pushed my body to the side. I felt like I was moving through molasses.

  “This is worse than a hurricane,” Garrett yelled.

  “I know. We call this a storm in the Pacific Northwest.” I nearly slipped on a patch of snow.

  “Careful.” Garrett caught me with his free arm.

  We trudged on. Without any streetlights, our only visibility was the tiny beam from Garrett’s flashlight. It felt like we were moving through a tunnel of darkness.

  Garrett stopped at the ramp that led to the Underground. The closed signs had blown away. “You sure you want to do this? I can go on my own. I don’t know what we might be walking into.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure.”

  He wrapped his hand over mine and placed it on the frozen railing. “Hold this tight. I’ll go behind you with the flashlight.”

  “Okay.” I clutched the railing. Was this a stupid idea?

  “You good, Sloan?”

  I realized I hadn’t budged. “Yeah.” I took one step, then another. Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea, but I didn’t want to leave Garrett alone. Ross or someone else could be hurt and unable to move. Or it could be nothing. Maybe the scream I’d heard had been the wind.

  Another thought invaded my head. What if the scream I’d heard had nothing to do with the storm? What if the killer was here? I shuddered.

  Garrett turned. “You good?”

  “Good.” I gave him a thumbs-up. It wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t about to turn around now. And I was sure that as soon Kat got through to the chief, she would send help.

  The descent down the ramp was precarious, but once we reached the bottom, we were shielded from the wind.

  “Let me go in first, Sloan.” Garrett moved in front of me. He went to turn the doorknob, but the door swung open.

  I swallowed my fear and followed him.

  He scanned the bar with his flashlight. It danced off shiny bottles of liquor behind the bar. We tiptoed farther inside. The chairs and tables had been stacked. A section of drywall on the far wall had been cut out. The hole in the wall was covered with thick plastic. Tools were piled on the bar, and another large piece of plastic had been secured to a doorway that I assumed led to the kitchen. It looked as if Ross hadn’t lied about doing work.

  A huge crash sounded.

  I jumped.

  “Ross? Is that you? It’s Garrett and Sloan. We’re here to help.”

  Was it from the wind, or was someone inside the bar?

  Adrenaline pulsed through my body.

  “This way.” Garrett motioned, moving with intention toward the plastic barrier.

  Another loud thud made me startle. It sounded like a pan or something heavy hitting the floor. There was definitely someone in the kitchen.

  My mouth was completely dry. I could hear my pulse in my head.

  Garrett held both hands low, signaling for me to stay behind him. “Something’s not right, Sloan. I don’t like this,” he said in a low whisper. “Stay close to me.”

  He kept the flashlight on the floor. The floor was covered with photos of tourists toasting with pint glasses. The photos had been covered in multiple layers of lacquer, giving the surface a waxy finish.

  Please hurry, Chief, I prayed internally as we stayed as quiet as possible.

  What was Garrett thinking? Was he worried that we were in danger? Had he landed on the same thought as me? What if we were stuck in the dark with a killer?

  When we made it to the door frame, Garrett made pantomime signs with his hands. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me.

  He pointed to the floor and then to the plastic.

  I realized he wanted me to lift it so that he could duck under it. I bent over and carefully lifted the corner of the plastic. Garrett went through and then waited for me to do the same.

  We left a trail of dusty footprints.

  The kitchen smelled of industrial cleaner. I pressed my fingers under my nose to try and block the chemical odor.

  Garrett muffled a gag.

  Ross had wiped the kitchen clean. I wondered if there was a reason.

  We froze as a cupboard slammed.

  “Who’s here?” a man’s voice called.

  Garrett turned off the flashlight.

  Another cupboard slammed. “Who’s in here? I’ve got a knife, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  Was it Ross?

  Garrett stuck out his right arm and felt along the countertop. Was he looking for something to use to defend himself? I did the same thing.

  “Whoever is in here, better show yourself.” The man’s voice was getting closer.

  I felt something wooden and picked it up. It was a rolling pin. Garrett held a skillet. I wasn’t sure how our weapons would stack up against a knife-wielding killer, but it was better than nothing.

  “Get out!” the man shouted.

  Garrett held his ground. He waited for another minute and then just as the man came close to us, he clicked on the flashlight and shined it in the man’s eyes.

  It was a quick-thinking move. The light blinded our assailant. He reeled backward, shielding his face with the blade of his knife.

  “Ross,” I said aloud. “It’s you?”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “OF COURSE IT’S ME. WHO else would it be?” Ross kept the knife in front of his face. “Get that light off of me.”

  Garrett moved the light to the side, illuminating the cupboards. He kept frying pan positioned and ready to strike.

  “Geez, I thought you two were intruders.” Ross lowered the knife and blinked rapidly. “I almost had a heart attack. What are you doing here?”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was Ross the killer? I didn’t want to take any chances, so I stayed partially hidden behind Garrett. “You called me. I heard a scream, so we came right over.”

  “The call went through?” He set the knife on the counter.

  That was a good sign.

  “I didn’t think you could hear me. I’ve been trying the cops and anyone I know in the village for the last thirty minutes.” Relief flooded his voice.

  “I heard a scream,” I repeated, stepping out from behind Garrett’s lanky frame.

  “Yeah, that was me.” He cracked his knuckles. “I came down to check on the bar. When I got here, I saw someone heading down the ramp. I thought maybe it was someone trying to take advantage of the storm and loot the place. That’s when I tried calling the cops, Der Keller, you. No one would answer. I guess you must have, though, because I heard a huge crash, and I probably screamed.”

  Garrett let the pan hang in his arm. “Have you found anyone?”

  Ross shook his head. “I was checking the walk-in fridge when I saw your light. It’s hard to see down here, but I checked the bar and everywhere someone could hide in the kitchen.” />
  “Is there any other exit?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but it’s in the back of the kitchen, and the door hasn’t been touched. I checked.” He pointed to the frying pan and rolling pin. “Why are you guys still holding those?”

  Garrett turned to me and nodded. He was signaling that he didn’t think we were in danger.

  “Well, I’ve heard some conflicting reports about you,” I said.

  “Like what?” Ross squinted.

  “That you lied about this construction work. I heard from a reputable source that this is a guise and that you’ve actually been shut down by the state.”

  The glow from the flashlight made his bald head appear shiny. “That’s true, but this construction work isn’t a guise. I’m using the opportunity to get some much-needed repairs done, and yeah, the state shut me down for a day, but it’s all been cleared up. I can start pouring again tomorrow. I got the green light this afternoon.” He moved toward the opposite side of the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Garrett followed his movement with the flashlight.

  “Getting this paperwork.” Ross held up a piece of paper. “If you don’t believe me, read this. It’s my license.”

  Garrett traded the frying pan for the paperwork. He scanned it and then handed it to me. Ross wasn’t lying. The state had given him the green light to reopen the Underground.

  “You guys think I killed Kristopher, don’t you?” Ross’s voice was incredulous. He made an X over his heart. “I swear I did not touch the dude. I didn’t have anything to do with his death. Like I said before, I’m not going to pretend that I’m upset that he’s gone, because I’m not, but I didn’t kill him.”

  “Sorry,” I said, setting the rolling pin on the counter. “I guess we jumped to conclusions.”

  A siren wailed nearby. The police were here.

  “Sounds like the troops have arrived,” Ross said, motioning for us to head back to the bar.

  Garrett turned and held the flashlight so that it illuminated the door frame. He waited for Ross and me to go through. As we reentered the bar area, I noticed the flap of black plastic that had been secured to the drywall was missing.

  Then everything happened in a blur.

  Someone sprinted through the bar, knocking tables and chairs in an attempt to escape. Ross and Garrett sprang into action. I watched in horror. It was impossible to make out the bodies thrashing around in the dark.

  A chair raised in the air. The next thing I knew, it came crashing down and Garrett landed on the floor near me with a thud.

  “Garrett!” I screamed, and ran toward him. “Are you okay?” I dropped to my knees.

  He let out a low moan. “My shoulder. He hit my shoulder.”

  “Is it bad?” I couldn’t see anything in the dark. Where had the flashlight landed?

  Garrett tried to stand but fell to his knees. “I can’t lift it.”

  Ross and the man struggled near us. I considered my options. I squinted, trying to get a better look at the man. It was too dark to see anything.

  The man had knocked Ross off of him and pushed over another table. It landed with a crash that made me jump.

  “We have to stop him.” Garrett tried to move again, but the pain stopped him. He clutched his shoulder and keeled over.

  “Don’t move. I’ll get help.” I fumbled on the floor for anything I could use for a weapon.

  In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Ross, who was on his feet again. He swayed as he stood. Had he been hit in the head? Should I try to help him?

  There’s no time, Sloan.

  The man was headed for the front exit. He had his back to me. I crouched behind a table and crawled toward him. The floor was ice-cold to the touch.

  If I could sneak up from behind, maybe I could take him by surprise or grab a chair and whack him on the head. The question was, did he have a weapon? If he had a gun or a knife, why hadn’t he used it?

  I hedged my bets and crept closer. Adrenaline surged through my body. The sound of my heavy heartbeat and the raging wind muffled together. The blackness of the room engulfed me. I didn’t dare turn around to see if Garrett or Ross was behind me.

  The man was almost to the door. I had to make my move—now.

  Carefully, so as not to make any sound, I pushed to my tiptoes and reached for the nearest chair.

  At the same time, thudding footsteps pounded down the entrance ramp. The front door burst open, and light flooded inside. I dropped the chair and shielded my eyes. Two police officers holding massive flashlights came in, followed closely by Chief Meyers.

  The escapee was tackled and cuffed in one blurry blaze of motion.

  I blinked, trying to clear the tiny yellow halos in my vision, and stared in disbelief as one of the officers yanked none other than Conrad to his feet. The officer restrained him while Chief Meyers and the second uniformed cop began scanning the bar.

  “Sloan, you good?”

  Spots danced in front of my vision. I managed to nod and point behind me. “I’m fine, but Garrett and Ross are hurt.”

  “Sit,” she commanded, picking up the chair that I had dropped. Then she motioned for one of the officers to come with her.

  Conrad was silent. He narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils. I turned my chair so I didn’t have to look at him.

  The chief attended to Garrett and Ross. She had her officer get them both packs of ice and called for reinforcements. My hands shook so fiercely that I stuck them underneath my thighs. The adrenaline was wearing off.

  Conrad was the killer. I couldn’t believe it—my instincts (and Kat’s) had been right after all. Garrett’s mom’s advice seemed most profound at the moment—always trust your instincts.

  An EMS crew arrived and immediately began to bandage Garrett’s shoulder. Once the medics took over, the chief returned to me. She crouched next to me and patted my knee. “I know you’ve been through the wringer tonight, so I’ll keep it as short as I can for the moment. Anything you can tell me about what went down while your memory is fresh will be helpful.”

  “Yeah, no problem. I’m fine.”

  “Your body language tells me otherwise, Sloan.” She nodded to my left foot, which was bouncing on the cement floor.

  I tried to smile. “Are Garrett and Ross okay?”

  “They’ll both be fine.” Chief Meyers stood. She held her flashlight to the ceiling and moved the spotlight toward the opposite side of the room. “Where did you find Conrad?”

  “I think he might have been hiding in there.” I pointed to the section of missing drywall.

  She motioned to the police officer, who immediately went to check out the area. The officer searched the cutout section with his flashlight. “We got them, Chief. You were right.”

  Got them? I was confused. Was someone working with Conrad?

  I waited with bated breath while the officer set his flashlight on the floor and put on a pair of gloves. Then he proceeded to reach into the area and pull out April’s ceremonial ribbon cutting scissors.

  “Trying to stash the evidence, and frame Ross?” The chief turned to Conrad.

  He closed his eyes and refused to answer her.

  “Get him out of here. Put him in the car,” she directed the officer guarding Conrad.

  “That’s the murder weapon?” I asked the chief after Conrad had been led away.

  “Looks like it.” Her walkie-talkie buzzed with storm reports. “I need you to clear the premises. We need to do a sweep and then get back out there. It’s blowing like crazy. I’ll be in touch to take your statements when I can.”

  She dismissed me and went right to work. The medics had finished triaging Ross and Garrett. I went to join them. Garrett’s left arm was tied in a sling. Ross had two butterfly bandages on his forehead.

  “How are you guys?”

  Garrett gave a pained attempt at a smile. “My shoulder was dislocated, but they got it back in place. I’ll be fine, but you might be lifting bags of grain for the next
couple of weeks.”

  “Dislocated?” I winced.

  “It doesn’t hurt. They told me to take some Advil and take it easy with any heavy lifting. It could have been worse.”

  “Me too.” Ross rubbed his temple. “No sign of a concussion, but they did warn me that I might have a doozy of a headache tomorrow.”

  The three of us walked outside together. In the short time we’d been in the bar, more debris and snow had fallen.

  “You want to come have a pint?” Garrett asked. “Consider it an apology for accusing you of murder.”

  Ross clapped him on the back.

  Garrett flinched.

  “Sorry, man. I’ll take a rain check.” He pointed to the apartments above the bar. “My place is upstairs, and after what went down, I think I need something stiffer than a pint. A shot of scotch has my name on it. Followed by an Advil chaser. I’ll catch you guys later.”

  We left him and pushed through the storm to Nitro. Kat was pacing in the kitchen. “I was so worried about you guys.” She threw her arms around me again. “My phone died and then I heard the police sirens.” Then she noticed Garrett’s sling. “What happened to you?”

  “We’re okay,” I assured her, and then we filled her in.

  When we finished, she let out a long sigh. “I’m so relieved, but now I have a bigger problem.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  Kat intentionally shook her hands as if she was having withdrawal symptoms. “This is going to sound pathetic, especially since you two just came face-to-face with a killer and you have a bad shoulder, Garrett. But how am I going to live without my phone for the night?” She grinned and pretended to choke herself. “I’ll totally die without it.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Garrett laughed. “You know, I just thought about the fact that my family is coming next week. I hope they can get through the passes.”

  “I’m sure they’ll get here fine.” I didn’t want Kat or Garrett to worry, but I suspected the visit might have to be delayed. I knew from experience that one of the cons of living in a remote location high in the Washington mountains was that it took longer to get support and restore services after a storm or major weather event. Kat might have to last without her phone for a while. Floods in the 1990s had sent rivers of mud and water gushing from the mountain, flooding the village and cutting us off from the outside world. Floodwaters threatened the dam, causing over fifty homes to be evacuated.