“Now that I know you guys are okay and I’m phoneless, I guess I’ll go to bed.” Kat left us with a yawn.
“So,” Garrett said, eyeing me. “Should I make another batch of my hot chocolate while we wait for the chief?”
“I’ve had enough hot chocolate for one night. Not to mention, you’re not doing anything with that arm. Although I might need a coffee. I’m running on fumes at the moment, but once the shock of what we just went through wears off, I have a feeling I’m going to crash. Can I make you a coffee or get you anything else?”
“I could go for a coffee.”
We replayed every detail of the evening over strong cups of coffee. I lost track of time as I watched the candles flicker.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I remembered was waking to the sound of footsteps echoing on the brewery’s cement floors.
“Sloan, Garrett, you in here?” Chief Meyers’s voice reverberated in the brewery. Next, I saw a beam from a flashlight illuminate the cement floor.
“In here, Chief,” Garrett replied. “You’re awake,” he said to me with a half grin. Three of the candles had burned out. He appeared to be working on something on his iPad.
“How long was I out?”
“Not long. Maybe a half hour.”
I stretched. My neck felt stiff. Probably because I had fallen asleep on the stainless-steel countertop.
“I was going to grab you a pillow,” Garrett said sheepishly. “But I didn’t want to wake you.”
Chief Meyers barged in. “Glad you’re both still awake. I need to take your statements while everything is still fresh.” She whipped out a notebook.
My mind was still fuzzy. “Did he confess?”
She clicked a pen. “Statements first, then we’ll discuss what I know.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
I POURED CHIEF MEYERS A cup of coffee while we recounted what we remembered with as much detail as possible. She took rapid notes, stopping us every once in a while for clarification.
When she was finished with her list of questions, she pushed the notebook aside and relaxed her body language. “Back to your original question, Sloan. Conrad confessed everything.”
Her flashlight danced off the ceiling as she spoke. “We’d been closing in on him. Got ahold of his financials. The shop was in terrible shape. Conrad already filed for bankruptcy. He was going to lose the business.”
“Do you think he went to Kristopher for help?” Garrett asked. He cradled his left arm as he spoke. I wondered if he was in more pain than he was letting on.
The chief nodded. “Yep. We found a moving van behind his shop loaded with valuable nutcrackers. If it hadn’t been for your tip, he might be halfway to Seattle by now. He probably figured he could get far enough away and then buy himself some extra time while we dug out from the damage. It’s not a bad plan.”
“But aren’t the highways closed?” I was slowly starting to come out of my fog. What time was it? I checked my watch. It was almost five in the morning. Garrett had lied. I had obviously slept for more than a half hour.
“Yep. Many of them are shut down, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have found an alternate route or blown past the detours. This was a man with nothing left to lose, remember.”
I nodded.
“He told us that he had approached Kristopher about investing in the shop. Kristopher took a look at his books and declined. Conrad was furious. Kristopher was an astute businessman. He knew that the nutcracker shop was a losing venture. Apparently, he went to Conrad’s competitor, Stan, and offered him a chunk of money. This sent Conrad over the edge. He had poured his life savings into the shop. He didn’t have a dime to his name, and he was convinced that Kristopher was toying with him. He went to talk to Kristopher. He and Kristopher argued, and the built-up stress and rage reached critical mass. He says he didn’t intend to kill Kristopher. That things took a bad turn.”
“Do you believe him?” Garrett asked.
Chief Meyers rested her flashlight on the counter. “I do. He said he was at his shop early the morning of the murder, unloading a new shipment. He saw Kristopher heading to April’s office and seized the opportunity. He followed after him and confronted him about offering Stan a partnership. Kristopher was smug about it, and Conrad snapped. There was a struggle and then he grabbed the scissors from the wall and stabbed Kristopher.”
“That means April is in the clear?” I said, already knowing the answer.
“She is, and it sounds like she has you to thank for that, at least in part.” Chief Meyers smiled ever so slightly. “If I were you, Sloan, I wouldn’t let her forget that.”
Garrett laughed. “Imagine the power. Maybe you should let her sweat it out a while longer.”
“I can’t condone that,” Chief Meyers said. “It won’t matter anyway. The news of Conrad’s arrest will quickly surpass any news about the storm by sunrise. Mark my words.”
“What about Heidi and Valerie? They’re both in the clear, right?”
“Yes. Both of them had their own motives for killing Kristopher, but neither of them acted on their anger. We’ve got our killer in custody with a full confession. This should be enough for the DA. We’ll continue to follow up by matching DNA evidence found at the crime scene to Conrad and sorting through Kristopher’s financials. Plus, we found Conrad trying to dispose of the murder weapon. He hasn’t admitted it, but I’m sure his intent at the Underground tonight was to frame Ross. He knew that Ross was on our radar and figured if we found the murder weapon at his property it would implicate him. The DA is going to love me. It should be an open-and-shut case.”
I couldn’t believe Conrad had been so desperate that he had actually killed Kristopher. I was glad to know that the real killer was behind bars and that life in the village could return to normal, but I also felt sad for Conrad. I loved our village and Nitro too. I could imagine Conrad’s desperation. It didn’t give him the right to take Kristopher’s life, but I understood his motivation.
“I need to get back to the office. We’re coordinating storm cleanup now that the bulk of the high winds are behind us. I wanted to thank you and make sure that you heard the news first.” She picked up her flashlight. “Be careful out there.”
“Chief.” I called for her to wait. “Do you think it’s safe to go to the farmhouse to check on Alex?”
“It’s looking better out there, but watch your speed and keep an eye out for debris. The crews have already cleared two large oak trees from Front Street. I don’t know what the highway is like, though, so use caution.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
After she left, Garrett ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I never imagined that starting a nanobrewery here would lead to such excitement and danger.”
“I know. I didn’t see that coming. My theory sounded crazy, even to me, but at the same time, it makes sense. I feel sorry for Conrad. Is that wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. I get it. I would probably feel desperate if I was about to lose Nitro. Not that I would kill anyone, but if he felt like he didn’t have any other options or support, I can see how it might have led him down that path. It’s too bad.”
“For nutcrackers.”
Garrett gave a low whistle. “For nutcrackers.”
“The good news is that, hopefully, April will back off for a while. I mean if Conrad killed over losing his nutcrackers, that alone should give the woman pause.”
“That’s really wishful thinking, Sloan.”
“True. Very true.” I took the empty coffee cups to the sink. “I’m going to go check on the house and Alex. You’re sure you don’t need anything?”
“No. I’ll take some Advil and try to sleep.” He walked with me to the front. “Don’t come in until later. Who knows if we’ll even have power.”
“I’ll check in later.”
He locked the door behind me. The sky was a light shade of purple, allowing my first view of the storm�
��s aftermath. Tree branches and other debris lined the street. I had to pull two huge tree branches from my windshield, but fortunately my car hadn’t sustained any damage. Snow continued to fall and had begun sticking in earnest now that the winds had died down.
Front Street was a sea of flashing yellow lights and work crews. There were strands of Christmas lights littering the sidewalk. Those poor work crews, I thought as I slowly drove up the street. Not only did they have to clean up the storm damage, but then they would have to put up all the lights again.
It took an extra twenty minutes to navigate to the farmhouse. I had to steer past obstacles like a shattered plastic chair. Twice, I had to detour because of trees fallen across the roadway.
When I pulled into our long gravel driveway, I was relieved to see the house intact. All of our sturdy evergreens were still standing. Thank God. With their dusting of snow, they reminded me of the pine tree shortbread I had made.
I parked and went inside. Mac and Alex were both snoring on the living room floor. They had taken all of the couch cushions and pillows to make a pile on the floor and covered themselves with blankets. It reminded me of when Alex was in preschool and we would have “campouts” in the living room. I had a feeling Mac had suggested sleeping in the living room because it was the most central and hence safest room in the house.
I blew Alex a kiss and tiptoed down the hall. My family was safe, and Kristopher’s killer had been apprehended. There was going to be much to do today, but as I slipped into bed, I said a prayer of thanks and gratitude. Regardless of my strained relationship with Mac, I was surrounded by people I loved and people who loved me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
WHEN I WOKE UP A few hours later, I got a better glimpse of the full extent of the storm’s damage. We’d lost an entire row of hop trellises. One of my favorite pots had been shattered. Some of the fencing around the perimeter of the property had been knocked over by the winds. None of it mattered. Snow blanketed the farm. It fell in fat, puffy flakes. There was nothing more beautiful or calming than the first snow. I wrapped myself in my plush cashmere robe (another present from Mac) and tiptoed down the hallway.
The scent of a crackling fire and the sound of Mac’s and Alex’s voices greeted me. Lately, it had been hard to differentiate their voices when talking to Alex on the phone. His deepening voice sounded more and more like Mac’s every day.
“How was the slumber party?” I asked, entering the kitchen and attached dining room to find Mac and Alex camped in front of the fire under a pile of blankets.
“Sloan, you’re wearing the robe I got you. It looks good.” Mac gave me a suggestive smile.
If Alex hadn’t been there, I would have smacked him, but instead I ignored his blatant attempt to get under my skin. “Is the power still off?”
“Last time we checked it was.” Alex held up a box of granola bars. “Hungry? We raided the pantry.”
He wasn’t kidding. Cereal boxes, marshmallows, chocolate bars, bagels, and a package of cookies lined the hearth.
“I see that.” I walked to the fireplace and reached for a cookie. Then I made room on the floor near Alex. “How long have you guys been up?”
Mac stared at the cuckoo clock on the wall. Ursula and Otto had given it to us on our wedding day. “Not long. Maybe a half hour or so. When did you get home last night? We didn’t hear you come in.”
I munched on the dry cookie, wishing that it was a pine shortbread instead. “Late, well actually early, I guess,” I replied and then I launched into a recap of last night’s events. It was strangely cathartic to allow the details and the pent-up anxiety to spill out.
“Sloan, you could have been killed.” Mac’s face was as white as the snow falling out the window.
“No. We had Conrad outnumbered.” I crunched another cookie.
Mac scoffed. “What would you say to Alex if he told you that he snuck off after a killer in the middle of a massive storm?”
“Yeah, Mom, Dad has a valid point. You would kill me.” Alex made a slicing motion across his throat. “I’m going to have some serious cred with everyone at school. The other moms are making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and my mom is tracking down a killer in the middle of a blizzard.”
The power flickered on. Talk about synchronistic timing. The return of lights saved me from Mac’s and Alex’s reprimands.
Alex threw off the covers. “I’ve got to go get online and see if anyone’s up yet. Fresh powder means snow day!” He ran to his room.
“Thanks for staying with him last night, Mac. I was worried.” I picked up a couple cereal boxes. “You want a cup of coffee?”
When we were married, Mac rarely helped with housework, but to my surprise, he got up and helped me gather the remains of their breakfast snack feast. “Coffee would be nice.”
I made coffee while Mac folded the blankets and stoked the fire.
“We were worried about you, Sloan.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I know things haven’t been great between us, but I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”
Every so often in moments like this, I saw flashes of the Mac I had fallen in love with. “Thanks. I swear, I’m fine.”
I poured us coffee and joined him at the dining room table. Maybe it was because of our brief emotional connection, but I found myself asking him about my past. “Can I ask you something, and when I do, will you promise to tell me the truth?”
“Anything.” Mac’s brow creased ever so slightly. I had a feeling he was nervous that I was going to ask about his infidelity.
“Do the names Forest or Marianne mean anything to you?”
Mac’s face drew a complete blank. “No, why?”
“You never heard your mom or dad mention them or anything about my past?”
His round cheeks scrunched. “No. I don’t know anyone by those names, and I definitely never heard Mama or Papa talk about your past, other than the occasional mention of being worried about you. Why?”
If there was one thing I could count on from Mac, it was his inability to lie. When he lied, his already ruddy cheeks would turn crimson. He would slur his words together and talk in rapid-fire speech. I knew he was telling the truth.
“Honestly, I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I promise I will once I’ve had some more time to figure this out myself, and I might need your help.”
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”
I appreciated the gesture. The old Mac would have pressed me until I relented. For the first time ever, I thought maybe Mac and I could end up friends.
“How’s the condo search coming along?” I pulled my hand away and drank my coffee.
“Good. I like the Blackbird Island place, but I want Alex to come see it with me before I sign a lease.”
I wanted to broach the subject of selling the farmhouse, but it didn’t feel like the right timing, especially since I had yet to tour the A-frame I was interested in seeing. April owed me a favor. Maybe I would drop by her office and see about arranging a showing.
Alex returned from his bedroom with a duffel bag of his snow gear. “Can one of you take me into town? I’m going to meet my friends, and we’re going to hit some of the cross-country trails since the lifts aren’t open yet. My skis are in the garage.”
“I’ll take you,” Mac offered, not only picking up our coffee cups, but washing and then drying them in the sink.
Alex went to get his skis from the garage.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Sloan?” Mac returned the coffee cups to the cupboard and wiped down the countertop.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you wash a dish.”
He looked injured. “That stings, but it’s probably fair. I’m finally realizing how much you did to hold this family together now that I’m on my own. I’m sorry.” His sapphire eyes welled with emotion.
; “Come on, Mac, I’m being glib.” I decided to change the subject before things turned more serious. “Can I catch a ride with you? I’d like to stop by April’s office, and your beastly machine can probably maneuver over any debris.”
We piled into Mac’s hummer and drove into the village like old times. I caught Mac staring at me in the rearview mirror, so I kept my gaze on the winter wonderland out the window. Mac and I were going to have to sit down and work through some painful conversations about the house, finalizing our divorce, and his parents’ involvement in keeping me from my past. For now, though, it could wait.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
MAC DROPPED ALEX AND ME off at Front Street Park, where kids were sledding and rolling giant balls of snow into snowmen. It continued to dump fluffy flakes from the sky. The village was bustling with activity. Shop owners were assessing damage, while snowplows tried to keep up with the blizzard of white. City crews had already made a large dent in clearing tree branches and refastening twinkle lights in the trees. If the snow continued like this, we might have five or six inches on the ground for the lighting ceremony.
I left Alex with his friends and tromped through the powdery snow to April’s office. There was a lightness about the village that had been missing for the last few days. I smiled as I passed the Café Haus, where the owner had set up an outdoor hot chocolate and cider stand with peppermint stir sticks and gingerbread cookies.
“Cider, Sloan?” he asked as I passed. “It’s free. A snow day special.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” I replied. “But save it for the kids.”
“Everyone’s a kid on a snow day.” He winked.
Beyond a Reasonable Stout Page 21