Beyond a Reasonable Stout

by Ellie Alexander

  I continued on to April’s. Her receptionist greeted me with a smile. “April’s been expecting you, go on back.”

  Expecting me? We didn’t have an appointment, did we?

  April’s office was a tribute to her. A photo gallery on the wall opposite her imposing walnut desk with brass handles displayed photos of April in a variety of costumes and poses. “Guten Morgen, Sloan.” April waved her fingers in the air. She was dressed in a puffy black ski jacket and matching pants with German flag patches plastered all over them. Her garish red hair was tied in two long braids and covered with a striped German flag ski hat. Any trace of her freckles had vanished under a thick layer of makeup.

  “You look like…” I tried to think of something nonoffensive. “Like yourself.”

  “Thank you.” She pointed to the chair. “Sit, sit. We have much to discuss.”

  “How did you know that I was stopping by?”

  April flipped her braids. “Why wouldn’t you come? I figured you want to rehash the tragic events, and we simply must go for a celebratory cup of mulled spice Wein. I’m a free woman again.”

  Yep, April was back. Great.

  “Do tell.” April rubbed her hands together. “I must know every detail about how Conrad was apprehended—that little rat. Chief Meyers was less than forthcoming, despite my reminders that everyone in the village will be coming to me for news and insight.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes.

  “Vell, Vell, out vith it.” April spun her hands in circles.

  Oh no. Not the fake accent, too. I gave April the condensed version.

  When I finished, she stood and walked to the spot on the wall where the scissors had been. “I knew it. I knew that Conrad was no good. I should have done something about it sooner and saved myself a splitting headache. Jail is absolute torture, Sloan. I’ve warned the chief that I could sue.”

  “It’s not the chief’s fault, April.”

  She traced the outline of the scissors. “Sloan, you know as well as I do that Leavenworth would implode without me. The chief had a duty to uphold civility. She could have been much more discreet.”

  “You should blame Conrad, not Chief Meyers. She was doing her job. The initial evidence pointed to you.”

  “Oh, mark my words, I will be suing the pants off of Conrad, too.” She brushed imaginary dust from the wall. “And the chief owes me a new pair of scissors.”

  In the grand scheme of things, ceremonial scissors sounded trivial, but this was April I was talking to.

  “Come on, let’s go.” April tugged on a pair of red, yellow, and black striped gloves. Where did she shop? Germans R Us?

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” She yanked me outside into the snow. She was on a mission. I had a hard time keeping up with her, even though my legs were much longer.

  “April, what’s the rush?” I huffed as we practically ran past the gazebo and up the hill to where Front Street curved and merged onto Highway 2.

  We stopped just before we made it to the highway. “Look.” April pointed to an adorable cottage next to the grange.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “The cottage.” She yanked me closer. I had always admired the cottage, with its white stucco exterior and thatched roof. The roof wasn’t literally thatched, but it was designed to resemble a farmer’s cottage. “Want to take a look inside?” April unzipped her ski parka and dangled a key ring in front of me.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s yours if you want it. I owe you one, Sloan, and I have it on good authority that the property is coming up on the market. I’ve told the owner that we want first dibs, and using much discretion, as I always do, when the owner learned that you might be interested in the cottage, they are willing to make you a very good deal.”

  “But I’ve never said anything about wanting this cottage. We talked about looking at that A-frame outside of town.”

  April stuck her hands on her hips. “Sloan, if you want to pine away and feel sorry for yourself in a remote cabin in the forest, go for it, but you’ve been there and done that. You’re starting a brand-new life. Do you really want to be miles from the village, or do you want to be in the heart of the action? You can walk to Nitro. You can walk everywhere.”

  She had a point.

  “Take it from me, the single life can be rewarding, but also very lonely.” There was a vulnerability in her tone that I had never heard before. “If you have your heart set on the A-frame, I’ll show it to you, but it’s the wrong choice. You don’t need to isolate yourself more. You need to embrace this village and everyone in it who cares about you.”

  Her words almost made me teary. Could it be that April Ablin really had my best interests at heart?

  She clinked the keys. “You want to see inside?”

  “Okay.”

  The minute we were inside, I fell in love with the cottage. It was cozy, with rustic wood floors, slanted windows, a red brick fireplace, and an updated kitchen. There were two bedrooms and a small den with a wood-burning stove. It was the perfect size for me and Alex.

  “Do you love it?” April asked when we finished the brief tour.

  “I do.” I could hear the surprise in my voice.

  April was smug. “I knew it. Shall we go back to my office and write up an offer?”

  “Wait.” I motioned for her to slow down. She was already halfway out the door. “I don’t know that I’m ready to make an offer. I should probably think about it. I haven’t even looked at any other properties.”

  April pursed her lips. “I will gladly show you every property on the market from here to Wenatchee, but I’m an expert, Sloan. This is your house. I know it. You know it. Think about it if you want, but you’re going to come to the same conclusion, and you only suffer by spending hours agonizing over your decision.”

  “But I haven’t even talked to Mac about selling the farmhouse yet.”

  “Your point is?” April swept her arm around the cute front entrance with a built-in mail slot. “This is not a multimillion-dollar property, and it’s hardly as if you’re broke. The Krauses are some of the most successful business owners in the village. You’re going to come out ahead in the divorce, and I guarantee that the numbers I discussed with the current owner will allow you to buy this with cash.”

  For my every hesitation, April had a compelling counterpoint.

  “Let’s go.” April held the door open for me. “I’m not going to force you into this, Sloan. The property hasn’t even listed yet. But don’t take too long on this one. Someone will scoop it up fast.”

  I took one final look at the cottage. In my heart, I knew April was right. I belonged here.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-TWO

  AFTER THE COTTAGE TOUR, APRIL suggested we have a celebratory “Wein” at the Alpen Winery. The windows of the winery steamed from the heat of warm bodies and warm mulled spice wine.

  “Prost!” April toasted to me. “To freedom and new adventures.”

  “To freedom and new adventures.” I returned her toast.

  “Do you mind if we join you?” someone asked. I turned to see Valerie with a group of her campaign team standing next to the family-style table we were seated at.

  “Sure.” I scooted down the bench to make room.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have some news to share.” Valerie blushed.

  April perked. “News? Do tell.”

  Valerie was drinking a deep merlot. She held her glass up to the light and swirled the deep-red wine. “I’ve had confirmation from the mayor and current council members that Kristopher’s name will not appear on the ballot. I’m running unopposed, so the election next week is a formality.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “Ich gratuliere!” April raised her mulled wineglass. “That’s proper German, Sloan. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

  Valerie reddened more. I wasn’t sure if it was from the wine. “Thanks. I’m
looking forward to serving Leavenworth, and I hope you’ll come to me with any suggestions or feedback for making our town even stronger.”

  “I have a list,” April said.

  One of Valerie’s campaign volunteers laughed. April shot daggers at him. “I’m serious. I’ve taken it upon myself to craft a list of critical policies that need to be implemented immediately.”

  “Excellent.” Valerie forced a smile. “I look forward to it.”

  “I’ll be by your office first thing tomorrow morning. Shall we plan on a couple hours to review my input?”

  Valerie gulped her wine. “Great.”

  Poor Valerie.

  I spotted Heidi ordering a drink at the bar. “Thanks for the wine, April, and congratulations, Valerie. I see a friend I want to say hi to and then I should get over to Nitro and see how things are there.”

  April caught my eye and then tapped her wrist. I got the hint. I walked over to where Heidi was sitting. “Heidi.” I tapped the back of her shoulder.

  She let out a little scream.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Oh, it’s you.” She fanned her face. “I’ve been so jumpy today after the storm. I couldn’t sleep. I was so sure the roof was going to cave in at the Hostel. After all that money and work, can’t you just imagine? And then I was worried about our guests when we lost power. I went over and made sure the flashlights were working and had the night manager light candles. I’m so glad I live in the village. I can’t imagine what I would have done if I lived out of town.”

  “How is the Hamburg?”

  Heidi took her glass of white wine from the bartender. “I’m happy to report that, unlike me, she weathered the storm without any major damage.” She nodded to her wineglass. “I thought I would have a quick drink to help settle my nerves and then I’m going to assess some broken yard art and a couple of windows with my handyman.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “What about Nitro?” Heidi asked, taking a long sip of her wine.

  “That’s where I’m headed now. Fingers crossed. When I left late last night—or, I guess, early this morning—the building was still standing.”

  “Did you hear about Conrad?” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I guess we were right, but it’s one of those times I wish I was wrong. I feel terrible for Kristopher.”

  “Me too.”

  Heidi patted my forearm. “Thanks for always being such a model of calm. You’re so grounded, Sloan. I need to learn from you.”

  “If you only knew.” I smiled. “I’m a mess internally, trust me.” I couldn’t believe I was admitting my weakness to Heidi. Maybe Mac wasn’t the only one changing.

  “No way.” Heidi shook her head. “I don’t buy it.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Well, then we should get a glass of wine soon, so I can get to know the real Sloan. I enjoyed our dinner, and I’d love to spend more time with you.” She made a goofy face. “Now I sound like I’m in grade school and asking if you want to come over for a playdate.”

  “A playdate sounds great.” We agreed to meet up for dinner in a few days. I left the winery with a broad smile.

  Front Street Park was a sea of colorful sleds. Teens amassed snowballs for an epic battle while the younger villagers made snow angels. The snowfall had let up a bit. Thick, wet flakes had been replaced by dainty snow floating to the ground in beautiful wisps. I paused and took in the picturesque scene. Smoke puffed from chimneys. Rooftops were laden with marshmallow-like drifts of fresh snow. A horse-drawn carriage cut tracks down the middle of the street. Silver bells jingled as the blanket-clad horses trotted past me.

  This is utopia, I thought as I kicked snow on my walk to Nitro.

  As I had said to Heidi, Nitro had indeed been spared from any major damage. A string of Edison-style outdoor lights had been ripped from the exterior door frame, and the wooden Nitro sign hung crooked, dangling by a single nail. Fortunately, Kat had managed to set our bistro tables and chairs back up. Short of a few minor repairs, the building appeared to be structurally sound.

  Someone had shoveled a path to the front door. The broken sandwich board was propped against the entryway. It read HOPPY SNOW DAY. Someone, I guessed Kat, had drawn snowflakes landing on the top of frothy steins.

  I went inside to find Kat pouring pints. Every table was packed, and there was a crowd gathered at the bar. “When did you open?” I asked, tugging off my coat and gloves and stashing them under the bar. “And how is Garrett doing?”

  Kat delivered two pints of our Cherry Weizen to a couple at the end of the bar. “An hour ago. He seems fine. He’s like a superhero or something. He just took a tray with four taster flights over to that table with one arm.” She paused and motioned to the bar. “Can you believe this? It’s like everyone came out for the snow.”

  “Yeah, snow days aren’t just for kids.” I washed my hands in the sink. “Put me to work. What can I do?”

  “Garrett’s delivering the first round of taster flights for that big group up front. Can you pour three more trays?”

  “I’m on it.” I reached for three paddles and started filling two-ounce glasses. It felt good to have Nitro buzzing. We hadn’t been this busy since Oktoberfest. Once I had the taster flights finished with our beers in order from the lightest pale ale to the darkest stout, I delivered them to the waiting table and was greeted with a round of applause and cheers.

  That was one of the best things about working in a craft brewery. Beer brought people together in celebration and in times of sadness. I was grateful to get to be a small part of our customers’ lives.

  The next hour or so was a frantic frenzy of pouring pints and washing glasses. The pine shortbread was a hot seller. We sold out of the batch that I’d made earlier in a matter of minutes. We went through bags of Doritos and peanuts. No one expected anything more since everyone was in the same boat of recovering from the storm and subsequent power outage.

  When things slowed a bit, I spotted Ross at the far end of the bar. He and Garrett were chatting like long-lost friends.

  “Hey, Sloan,” Ross said, raising his glass of honey wheat ale when I joined them. “I had to take you guys up on your offer from last night. I was just saying to Garrett that I’d love to get a keg of this on tap at the Underground. I know you guys don’t have many kegs to spare, but if you’d be willing to send one to me, I’ll make sure my bartenders tell customers to come across the street to try more of whatever you have on tap.”

  Garrett pushed up the right sleeve of his Nitro sweatshirt. “What do you think, Sloan? We can spare one keg, can’t we?”

  “Absolutely.” I glanced behind us to the menu board and did some quick calculations. Our holiday line would be ready to keg in a week. The current line of fall beers we were pouring were going quickly, but I had a feeling the snow day was an anomaly. We still had a few kegs in the back, and things shouldn’t heat up again until the Christmas lighting, when we would debut our holiday ales. “That would be great.”

  Ross reached over and shook both of our hands. Then he raised his glass again. “To new partnerships.”

  Garrett and I had discussed partnering to get Nitro on tap at other bars and restaurants in the village, but thus far we hadn’t had the capacity. One keg at the Underground seemed like an excellent starting point.

  “Have you recovered from last night?” I asked. “How’s the head?”

  Ross gently tapped the butterfly bandages on his forehead. A hint of a bruise had begun to form on his skin. “The EMS guys were right. My head kills today, but otherwise it doesn’t even feel real. I’m still in shock.”

  “Same,” Garrett agreed, rubbing his sling. He got pulled away by another customer.

  “Who would have pegged Conrad to go wacko like that?” Ross popped his jaw. “Not that I blame him. Kristopher knew how to start a fight. Just what you want from an elected official, huh?”

  “True.” I left Ross to refill pints a
nd mingle with the other customers. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I wondered if it was Alex. He and his friends would likely be starving after skiing for a few hours.

  I didn’t recognize the number, but the moment I answered, I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “Sloan, it’s Sally. Can you talk?”

  I glanced around the bar. The rush seemed to have died down. Garrett and Kat could easily manage the fifteen or twenty people lingering over drinks. I caught Kat’s eye and motioned to my phone. Then I headed for the office.

  “I can talk, Sally. How are you?”

  Her voice sounded unsteady. “I’m fine, but we need to talk, and it can’t be over the phone. I borrowed my neighbor’s cell to call you. I don’t trust anything right now. I’m sure I’m being paranoid and overthinking things, but I’d feel better if we talked face-to-face again.”

  “Okay, do you want me to come to Seattle? Things are slow for the next couple of weeks. I can get on the train tomorrow.”

  “No. Don’t come here. I’ll come to you.”

  “Sally, I have so much to tell you. I talked to Ursula—”

  She cut me off. “Don’t say anything more. I’ll make my arrangements and let you know details soon.”

  I thought I had lost her. There was a long pause on the line.

  “Sloan, this is very important. When I arrive in town, I’m coming as a tourist and longtime friend to see you and Alex. Understood?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This is serious. Don’t breathe a word of the real reason for my visit to anyone, especially your in-laws. I’m not sure the Krauses are the sweet German couple you think they are.”

  My stomach dropped. A cold chill came over my body.

  “Sloan, be safe. I’ll see you soon.” With that, Sally hung up.

  What had she meant that the Krauses weren’t who I thought they were? What could Sally have learned?

  I put my phone back in my pocket and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face before returning to the front. There was one thing I could do well, and that was keep a stone face. For the sake of myself and for Alex, I intended to heed Sally’s warning. If Sally wanted me to keep quiet until her arrival, I would do just that.