From Beer to Eternity

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From Beer to Eternity Page 9

by Sherry Harris


  “How’d you end up at AJ’s?” Rhett asked as he pulled out of Boone’s drive.

  “Google. It was on a list of best bars in Destin. You sound a little judgy about my choice.”

  “I’ve got nothing against AJ’s.”

  “Where would you go?” I’d add whatever he said to my list of places to avoid. Not that I had such a list, but I could start one. He was just too tempting. And some instinct told me getting on Ann Williams bad side wouldn’t be smart.

  “The Red Bar in Grayton Beach.”

  Grayton Beach was a small town to the east of here not unlike Emerald Cove. I’d wanted to go to the Red Bar because I’d heard the food was delicious, the bar was eclectic, and their music was always good. It had been destroyed by a fire and had been rebuilt. And while I’d rather not run into Rhett somewhere —now who’s being judgy?—I wasn’t going to let him stop me from going to a venue that sounded like that much fun. So much for making a list or trying to avoid Rhett.

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked.

  “No time this morning.” Was he asking me if I wanted to go out to breakfast, or just being all Southern and polite? Did I want to go with him or should I make up some great excuse why I couldn’t?

  “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  Rhett laughed and made a call. He glanced at me as the phone rang through his speakers. “Do you like breakfast burritos?”

  “Of course.” I liked breakfast burritos, or burritos of any kind at any time, for that matter. They were scrumptious. My mouth grew moist as visions of burritos danced in my head. I hoped my stomach wouldn’t gurgle. Boone had always teased me about the hunger monster he said lived in my stomach. “Without regular feedings, we all have to hear the hunger monster,” he’d say.

  “Spicy?” Rhett asked.

  “The spicier the better.”

  A woman with a Spanish accent answered the phone, and Rhett asked for two chorizo burritos with chili verde. “I’ll be there in few minutes, Maria.”

  Rhett drove into the town center and started around the circle. He waved at a couple playing chess at a picnic table under a magnolia tree in the town green. Rhett turned on the street that was the east arm of the starfish, drove for a bit, and parked by a food truck near the beach. “Best Mexican food on the Panhandle. Come on.”

  I followed Rhett to the truck.

  “Rhett,” a woman called out.

  I presumed she was Maria. Rhett put a hand on my back as we walked to the food truck. His hand was warm and made me shivery. I hoped to heaven he couldn’t feel my reaction to his touch. The woman let out a torrent of Spanish, which Rhett responded to in equally as fluent- sounding Spanish with a laugh. I knew some Spanish, but had a hard time keeping up.

  I thought I heard Maria say the word “novia” and “amor.” Was that girlfriend and love? I looked at the sky, my feet, and the sand—anywhere but at Maria or Rhett, because this bypassed embarrassing and went right to humiliating. I wanted to clap my hands over my ears so I didn’t have to hear what Rhett had to say.

  He responded with “no” and “amiga.” We were friends? When did that happen? Not that I didn’t want to be his friend, but up to this point, our relationship had consisted of him finding me snoring, then finding me screaming over Elwell, sharing a toast with me, and coming to Boone’s house this morning. Oh, and he’d scared the crap out of me when I was eavesdropping. An unusual way to start a friendship.

  Rhett interrupted Maria by introducing us. She called to her husband, Arturo, who came to say hello. More rapid-fire Spanish about love and girlfriends. Rhett glanced over at me and smiled. I guessed this was what people assumed when you ate breakfast together in the Panhandle of Florida. Things could be worse. I’d have to remember that for future reference.

  Arturo went back to work. After Rhett paid, Maria handed him two cardboard plates with the burritos and handed me two water bottles.

  “Come on,” Rhett said, and headed toward a picnic table by the beach.

  “Wait. I’ve got to get my car and open the bar. And there’s Vivi.”

  “The bar doesn’t open for three hours. And unless you’re a criminal defense lawyer, there’s nothing you can do right now for Vivi.” He tilted his head toward a picnic table with a view of the water. “There’s nothing better than something hot and satisfying in the morning.”

  What? Did he really just say that? Get a grip. He’s talking about the burritos, not me. Fortunately, he turned and walked toward the table, while I blushed from the thoughts steaming through my head. I hoped the redness had receded by the time I plopped down across from him. I dug into the burrito to avoid looking at Rhett. There was just enough spice to wake me up, but not enough to make me sweat.

  “This is perfection,” I said. “Thanks for bringing me.”

  “It is,” he said, watching me.

  Was he talking about the burrito, the view, or me? Time to get my mind off him. “You don’t think Vivi could kill Elwell, do you?” I asked. I hoped she was innocent for Boone’s sake. But she might not be. After all, how well did I really know her? I’d heard the argument she’d had with Elwell or someone. Even if it was someone else, it showed she had quite the temper.

  Rhett gazed into my eyes—not in a romantic way, but in a why-the-heck-would-you-ask-that way.

  “I’m worried about her,” I said. “Do you think they have evidence?”

  “Of course.” His voice was gentle.

  “The knife in his neck. It’s called a channel knife. Bars have them.” I gripped my burrito, felt its heat.

  “So that means they’re common. There are several bars along the beach.”

  “That’s true. And even if it was a knife from the Sea Glass, anyone could steal a knife. Some of the heritage owners come behind the bar to serve themselves or help out if it’s busy. The regulars too. The back door is rarely locked and people use it as an entrance.” I ate some more of my burrito. “What if someone saw Vivi use a knife and they took it? But why set up Vivi?”

  “I’ve been wondering that too.”

  I returned to concentrating on my burrito while I spun different scenarios in my head. None of them included Vivi being the murderer.

  “I take it you liked it?” Rhett asked ten minutes later as I wadded up my napkin.

  “Delicious. Thank you.” I drank the rest of my water and stood. “I really need to get going. I could get a ride share to take me so you can get on with your day.”

  “It’ll be faster and cheaper with me.”

  I fought off another round of blushing. Why did everything he said to me this morning sound like something sexual? My twenty-eight-year-old hormones were in rare form. But his face was pure innocence. Maybe too innocent?

  I thanked him once we got to AJ’s.

  He walked me to my Beetle and waited until I got in.

  “Cute,” he said.

  Was he talking about my car or me? Why did I keep questioning everything he said? Get a grip. How many times was I going to tell myself that this morning? “You’ll watch for Joaquín while I open the Sea Glass?” I asked.

  “I will. Let me know if you need anything.”

  I nodded and took off. Then I realized I had no way of getting hold of him if I did need something, which was probably for the best.

  CHAPTER 14

  Joaquín arrived at ten thirty—thank heavens. There was still no sign of Vivi. Joaquín must have talked to Rhett, because he knew about Vivi being hauled off by a deputy.

  “I’m so glad to see you, but I’m worried about Vivi,” I said to him.

  “Don’t worry. It will be fine.” He turned and started polishing a clean glass.

  His words said, “don’t worry,” but just like Monday, his face said Vivi was in deep trouble. I thought again about Gloria’s comment that one of the heritage business owners had killed her husband. But how could I possibly figure out who? They’d all known each other for years. What would
trigger one of them to kill Elwell now?

  They weren’t the only ones on my list. Oh, for goodness’ sake. I had a list of suspects. I might be losing it. I was no Harriet the Spy. But I had to think about this. And what I was thinking about was Buford. The violent outburst he’d had over cards the other day. It was the only time I’d seen such a display of temper from him, but knowing it lurked there, considering how Elwell was killed, I had to consider him a suspect.

  We opened at eleven, as usual. A few minutes later, Ralph Harrison came in the back door, nodding at me as he took a table. I wondered who was driving the Redneck Rollercoaster today. By 11:45 most of the heritage business owners were huddled around one of the tables near the sliding glass doors, drinking and talking. Maybe this would be my chance to learn something, because there still hadn’t been any word from Vivi. What could the sheriff’s department be doing with her? Were these people here to support her or throw her under the bus?

  My determination to eavesdrop was briefly derailed when Wade brought over a big platter of raw oysters from the Briny Pirate and set it on the table for the business owners. Raw oysters repelled me. They looked like something a dolphin would sneeze out. I could barely look at them without getting sick. And as if it wasn’t bad enough, all the heritage business owners were very thirsty today. I’d been running Bloody Marys, glasses of water, cranberry and vodkas, plus sodas—that’s what they called pop down here—since they had walked in. I kept trying to place their drinks beside them without looking at the big platter of oysters or hearing them be slurped down. Ack. Just ack.

  At the same time, I wanted to hear what they were talking about. Vivi was more important than my fear of oysters. I reminded myself of that as I tamped down my nausea by breathing through my mouth so I didn’t have to smell their briny scent.

  “What happened to make him start wearing that armadillo hat?” Edith Hickle asked. I put an extra spicy Bloody Mary to the right edge of her plate.

  “Brain tumor?” one of the owners answered.

  “While I wish we could blame it on something medical, I think it was pure orneriness,” Ralph said.

  “To what end?” asked the owner of the grocery store.

  “If we had that figured out, maybe we would know why he was murdered,” Leah Hickle said. Leah was Edith’s daughter. I’d met her at the memorial for Elwell too. Was the glass-bottom boat docked?

  Ann Williams walked in and sat at a table across from the bar with her back to the wall. The heritage business owners acknowledged her but didn’t invite her to join them. I went over to see what she wanted.

  “A Tom Collins,” she said.

  I had no idea what that was but wrote it down on the pad that I carried in the little half apron I’d taken to wearing. “Joaquín told me you fix things,” I said.

  Ann tilted her head to one side. “Yes.”

  “Rhett pulled the door to Boone’s screened porch off the hinges this morning and I need to get it fixed.”

  She flushed a little. “Sounds like Rhett wanted in really bad,” she said, her voice too neutral, and it held a hint of anger.

  Oops. I’d forgotten they’d been together the other night. That they were a couple. No wonder she sounded mad. I’d be mad if my boyfriend was yanking the door off someone else’s house. “It was so flimsy that the slightest tug did it.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I didn’t want him to get in trouble with Ann. “Vivi asked him to stop by to tell me she needed me to open.”

  “Oh.”

  Hopefully, Rhett was off the hook now. “Will you be able to take care of the door?” I asked. “There’s no rush.”

  A little half smile flashed across her face. “Sure. What are they all here for?” Ann asked, nodding toward the heritage owners table.

  I didn’t want to lie to her after she’d said she’d fix my door, but I didn’t feel any need to tell her the truth either. “I thought this was just their gathering place. But I’m new, so what do I know?” I gave a slight shrug to show my indifference. I’m not sure she fell for it.

  Ann pulled a paperback out of her purse. I couldn’t see the title. She gave me a quick nod.

  “I’ll get your drink.”

  * * *

  An hour later, I’d learned nothing helpful through my attempts at eavesdropping. That’s when Vivi slipped in the back just as a group of tourists flocked in the front. She stood behind the bar, looking over the scene. It looked like she gritted her teeth until she spotted the heritage business owners. Then her face softened to a smile. Meanwhile, the tourists took over every remaining table inside and out on the covered deck.

  Ann Williams looked them over, put her book in her purse, and left. The two men playing cards in the corner rolled their eyes at the tourists. The heritage business owners hadn’t noticed Vivi yet. She looked pale and a bit tired, not that she’d ever admit being tired to anyone—well, at least not to me.

  “How are you?” I asked her.

  “Joaquín, will you please bring me a glass of sparkling water?” Vivi asked. I didn’t think she was going to answer me for a minute, but she turned toward me. “I’ve had better days.”

  I was surprised she showed me her vulnerable side. She sounded exhausted. Wade looked up when he heard her voice. He pushed back his chair and hurried over to her. He grasped her arms and studied her face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. Sparks of concern seemed to radiate from his eyes. Vivi leaned into him for the briefest moment before drawing back.

  He loves her.

  “Of course. I’m fine,” Vivi said. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She flashed a smile at him.

  I could tell that Vivi knew Wade loved her, but did she love him? Joaquín handed Vivi her sparkling water. She frowned at me and then tilted her head toward the crowd of people who had just come in. For a minute, I’d forgotten I worked there, entranced as I was with my observations of her and Wade. Had Boone known? That was another thing I’d never have an answer to. I grabbed my pad of paper out of my apron and hurried out from behind the bar.

  Joaquín cranked up the music. My body relaxed. It seemed like the whole place did. I went from group to group, taking orders and getting them back to Joaquín. I filled the easy ones: the beers, chardonnays, and cabernets. Joaquín did the mixed drinks. I delivered them all, still learning the best way to carry a tray full of drinks through a crowd. So far, I hadn’t doused anyone, but this was the busiest I’d seen the place. Joaquín was smiling and laughing again, so soon it was one big party. Except for the heritage owners, who huddled, heads close together, talking.

  * * *

  By five, the heritage owners had been gone for over an hour and Vivi had disappeared into her office. Joaquín and I were working nonstop—me like a crazy person and him calmly filling drink orders while flirting with the ladies sitting at the bar. He moved his hips to the music, and even I’d paused more than once to enjoy the view.

  A redhead leaned over the bar to him. “Joaquín.”

  “What can I get you?” he asked.

  “An extra-large serving of you,” she said. She batted her fake eyelashes at him.

  “Oh, honey, do you think you can afford me?”

  She laughed. “Maybe?”

  “I don’t think so, but I can get you another mai tai.”

  She put on a pouty face, but nodded her head.

  Joaquín had a way of deflecting advances without offending anyone. I hoped I could do as well. Because, as the afternoon had worn on, my glare was getting the best of me. At the library, I had used it to stop children in their tracks. It had the same effect here, but probably wasn’t the best for customer service or for getting tips. But I did what I had to.

  A sunburned, tipsy man reached out to pinch my backside.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I scooted out of his reach. “I’m not a lamb and this isn’t a petting zoo. So don’t touch.” I lasered a look at him. He withdrew his hand like it had been slapped.

  His friends all started laughing, and
one said, “Oooh, burn.”

  He put up his hands in the air. “My apologies.”

  I looked up to see that Vivi had come out of her office and observed the whole thing. She actually smiled and then put her fist over her mouth like she was covering a laugh.

  * * *

  At nine thirty, Joaquín and I were putting stools on top of tables so we could sweep and mop the floors. Vivi was in the kitchen, emptying and reloading the dishwasher.

  “Joaquín, who worked here before I showed up? It doesn’t seem possible that it was just you and Vivi.”

  “On normal days, Vivi is out here working as hard as anyone, but it hasn’t been normal around here since Boone died. So you showed up just when we needed someone.”

  I’d been so caught up in my own life that I’d forgotten how much Boone’s death affected Vivi, and Joaquín too. I smiled, but felt embarrassed that I’d been so wrapped up in myself. “He was such a good man.” Maybe that was why Boone wanted me here. He knew Vivi would need help while she grieved if he died.

  “He was. Loved his grandmother, worried about her, wanted the best for her.”

  I hoped I was doing my best. For Vivi. For Boone. If I was going to upend my life, I should make it worth it. I’d been telling myself that all of this had been thrust upon me. But I didn’t have to come here or stay. I’d been in Chicago for my entire life. Perhaps a change for a few weeks was what I needed and I didn’t know it. Trust Boone to know me better than I knew myself. “You didn’t answer my question. Did anyone work here before me?”

  Joaquín put another stool on top of the table. “Elwell’s daughter.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Elwell’s daughter! “Ivy?” I remembered her name from Elwell’s obituary. “Why’d she leave?” I asked. I tried to remember who was with Gloria at the memorial service but didn’t remember anyone who looked like they could have been her daughter. That was odd, I thought again.

  Joaquín ignored me for a couple of seconds, glanced toward the back like he was checking to see where Vivi was. He finally looked up. “Vivi caught her stealing.”

  Whoa. From what I’d heard and read, Elwell was loaded. Why was his daughter stealing? “Really? I can’t imagine Vivi tolerating that. No wonder she fired her.”

 

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