From Beer to Eternity

by Sherry Harris

  “I don’t want it. Any of it,” I said. “Vivi can have the Sea Glass. I can’t imagine what Boone was thinking. She doesn’t want me around. I’m just here because of Boone.” I poured out the story to this man, a stranger.

  “Boone left a letter for you.” Ed opened a manila file folder, took out an envelope, and handed it to me. “Read this before you make any decisions.”

  I looked down at the envelope, a cream-colored vellum. It was heavy, but the weight of what he’d done was worse. I stood. “Okay, I’ll read it, and then I’ll come back and you can help me figure this out.”

  “Don’t make any rash decisions,” he said.

  I nodded, not convinced I wouldn’t.

  * * *

  At nine that night, Joaquín locked the doors and turned to me. “What’s going on with you and Vivi?”

  She had spent the day in her office with the door closed. I’d knocked on Vivi’s office door more than once during the day. Every time I had, she’d yelled that she was busy. Earlier in the day, Wade had come over for a while. When he left, he had shot a worried glance at me. But it was too busy for me to talk to anyone about what had happened this morning. Vivi left around five with just a quick word to Joaquín, asking him to close the place.

  I needed someone to talk to, and Joaquín seemed to be the only one available at the moment. “I’ll buy you a drink and tell you what I know.”

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Something fruity and happy.”

  Joaquín laughed. “You want a happy drink? I’ve never had anyone ask me for a happy drink before.”

  I watched as he made something with peach schnapps, champagne, and muddled peach. He poured it into a fancy glass and stuck a turquoise paper umbrella in it. “Happy enough?” He got a bottle of Coors Light out of the cooler and popped off the lid. We sat next to each other at the bar.

  I took a big drink. “This is delicious.”

  “Good. Now what’s going on?”

  I told him about the visit to the lawyer. About Vivi’s reaction.

  “Whoa. I wasn’t expecting to hear that,” Joaquín said. “What did the letter say?”

  I looked down at my feet for a moment. “I haven’t read it yet.”

  Joaquín arched one of his eyebrows at me.

  “I wasn’t ready to this morning, and I had to get to work.” I took a shuddery breath. “I’m scared to read it.”

  “Do you want to read it now? I can hang around for a bit longer.” He glanced at the clock as he said it.

  I knew he got up early to fish, and he had a husband to get home to. “Thank you. But I think I’ll wait until I get home. To Boone’s.” To my place. The thought didn’t make me happy.

  “I get that. I’ll text you my number in case you need anything after you read it.”

  Thank heavens for Joaquín. Without him, I’d truly be alone down here. He was the Scarecrow to my Dorothy. A much better-looking scarecrow. “Thanks, Joaquín. Let’s get out of here. I know you get up early.” We finished our drinks, Joaquín locked up, and we headed out.

  * * *

  I took a glass of wine onto the screened porch, along with the letter from Boone. I sat in the dark for a few minutes, sipping my wine and listening to the waves. The envelope glowed white in the darkness, like it was pulsating. I finally sighed, flipped on a lamp on the wicker end table, and picked up the envelope. After a few moments, I realized staring at it would accomplish nothing. I flipped it over and ran my finger under the edge, cutting my index finger in the process. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I drew out the stationery. The sheets were folded in half. After taking a deep breath, I forced myself to open the pages and look down. The handwritten letter was dated right before Boone left for Afghanistan.

  Dear Chloe,

  If you are reading this, things didn’t go as planned.

  I took a sip of my wine. Set it back down with a shaky hand.

  I always pictured us gray-haired, sitting on a veranda, watching our grandkids play in the Gulf.

  Could that have been our future? Other than a couple of awkward drunk kisses our freshman year in college, we’d always been buddies. We both dated other people. Although, now that I thought about it, Boone rarely had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of months. I had always teased him about being a playboy, with all his dating around. There’d been one girl a couple of years ago who I thought might have been the one for him. She’d started out being really friendly to me, but the longer they’d dated, the colder she’d become toward me. Now I knew why.

  Maybe that wouldn’t ever have been our lives. Maybe you couldn’t love me the way I love you. And if you’re reading this, we won’t ever know if that dream could have come true. But I’ve always loved you, Chloe. Since that first day when you got lost at orientation. Vivi always told me to marry my best friend, and that’s you.

  What did Vivi know about Boone and me? Was that the reason she was so cold to me? The reason the picture was left behind in Boone’s room when so much else was gone? Maybe she left it there so I’d know what I’d missed out on with Boone. Or maybe she’d accidentally overlooked that drawer.

  I’m not sure if you’re cursing me or thanking me for giving you a quarter of the bar.

  I wasn’t sure either. And I still didn’t understand why he’d done it.

  You probably don’t understand why.

  I almost laughed. Boone and I had always been so in sync. How could I not have seen us as a possibility? Lord knows I always chased the wrong guys and ended up getting hurt more than I should have.

  Vivi is probably going to offer you a lot of money for your quarter of the bar. Maybe more than it’s worth. I’m asking you to say no to her. I can’t explain it fully, but I think in time you’ll come to understand why. Trust me on this one. Please. Obviously, it’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you to do for me. All my love, Boone

  A half sob, half gasp burst out of me with a strange keen to it as I dropped the letter beside me. Boone. I clicked off the lamp, leaped up, and went out the back door. I sat on the stoop, feeling about as restless as I ever had. The moon was out in full force. The waves almost flat. I leaped up, grabbed the paddleboard and oar shoved under the porch, and launched myself into the Gulf before the smart side of my twenty-eight-year-old brain told me this was stupid. The water was so shallow here, only calf deep. If I fell in, getting my shorts and T-shirt wet wouldn’t matter.

  Working my muscles, concentrating on centering myself on the board, kept me from thinking about Boone’s letter. I stayed close to shore. Coming out here at night might not be the smartest thing, but staying close in mitigated the risk. I kept at it until I was worn out. Or tuckered out, as a local might say. While I carried the board and oar back up the beach, I spotted someone sitting on the beach halfway between the shoreline and the house. Rhett. Great.

  He stood as I approached, and there was no way to avoid him. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I was out for a run and saw some idiot out on a paddleboard. Alone. At night.” He paused. I kept walking toward my house. “I wanted to make sure the idiot was okay.”

  I couldn’t disagree that it was probably a foolish thing to have done. And I was too tired to argue from an emotional and physical standpoint. I stopped and looked at him. “Thanks. You’re right.” A breeze ruffled his hair and chilled me enough to make me shiver. “I’m going to head in. Have a good evening.”

  “Promise me you won’t go out alone on the water at night.”

  “I don’t make promises I might not keep.” In fact I think I was off making promises to anyone ever again.

  “So, I’m going to have to come out here every night to make sure you’re okay?” Rhett didn’t make it sound like that was such an onerous task.

  Thank heavens it was dark and he couldn’t see the blush that came with the every night comment. “I’m sure you have better things to do.” Ann, for one. I walked back to the cottage and stowed the paddleboard and oar. R
hett stood where I’d left him for a moment, staring toward the cottage in the moonlight.

  “Thanks for worrying about me,” I called. I let myself back onto the porch. Locked the door behind me. “Good night, moon. Good night, Rhett. I will solve this mystery yet.” Ah, children’s books and rhymes. Loved them. I said it softly so he didn’t think I was nuts.

  He waved, and then he headed west, back toward the marina. I sat back on the swing and grabbed my glass of wine. Took a healthy drink. Boone’s letter glowed on the seat next to me, where I’d dropped it. I forgot all about Rhett and rhymes and children’s books.

  CHAPTER 18

  The Hickle glass-bottom boat did a sunrise tour. It was the perfect morning for a ride. A soft breeze combatted the humidity, and there were just enough clouds to promise a spectacular sunrise. I’d never been on a glass-bottom boat before and could barely contain my excitement. After our captain, Leah Hickle, backed the boat out of its spot in the marina, we headed west. Slowly passing docked boats, including Boone’s. Soon we chugged up a bayou I didn’t know existed.

  Leah had a heart-shaped face with big blue eyes and enviable lashes. She looked like she was in her thirties. Her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a Hickle Glass-Bottom Boat T-shirt. Her family owned the boat and Leah captained it with a deft hand. She’d turn back to look at the twenty passengers who’d boarded with me as she talked about the area. It looked like she could get us to the bay blindfolded. My fellow passengers were a mix of kids and adults. Eyes were rubbed and yawns were catching. But the boat was full even on a Thursday morning.

  I took the seat closest to where Leah stood at the wheel. The combination of gas from the engine, live oaks, and humid, salty air wasn’t awful. Soft, warm air caressed my face. Live oaks heavy with Spanish moss leaned over above us to form a creepy tunnel.

  Cranes and pelicans roosted in the scrub pine below the oaks. Birds called to one another as they woke up.

  “You can watch for gators,” Leah said, “but it’s likely you won’t see any. While Southern Florida has millions, we probably only have thousands here on the Panhandle.”

  Only thousands? One seemed too many to me. I watched for alligators along the too-close banks but didn’t see any.

  “If you go golfing and your ball lands in the water, don’t stick your hand in to get it back.” Leah paused. “If you like your hand.”

  She didn’t mention snakes. I hoped we didn’t see any. Like Indiana Jones, I hated snakes.

  Leah flipped on lights under the boat.

  We all stared down. The water here was brown and a bit murky, but I spotted fish darting among the roots of trees. Kids oohed and aahed as fish swam under the glass. I did my share of oohing too. The tree roots looked like bony arms reaching out to grab us.

  Leah wasn’t as much of a ham as Ralph was on the trolley, but she was knowledgeable. She kept the kids involved, telling them that pirates were rumored to have left treasure and Native Americans had left arrowheads and tools along the bayous.

  But the kind of treasure I was seeking was the truth about why Elwell died and who had killed him. Although it was hard to think about that given my day yesterday. I’d barely slept after the twin bombshells Boone had dropped yesterday by leaving me part of the bar and his love letter. He’d given me a lot to think about. My own bombshell had hit around two in the morning. I could be a silent partner in the bar, just rubber-stamping things Vivi wanted to do from afar in Chicago.

  “Shout if you see any treasures,” Leah said. But this wasn’t a ride at an amusement park where fake treasure lined the route. And the calls of the waking birds weren’t pumped out on hidden speakers. “There’s lots of bayous that stem off this one. Rumors of pirates and moonshiners abound even today.”

  When we popped out into the bay, Leah sped up. I leaned back against my seat and raised my face and closed my eyes. Maybe it was the boat, fresh air, and being on the water, but I felt lighter this morning. Boone wouldn’t want me to mope around. Vivi and I would figure out what to do about the bar. It was hard to feel sorry for myself on a gorgeous morning in such a beautiful place.

  Leah cut the engine abruptly. “The sun will pop over the horizon in about a minute.”

  Rays already shot out into the pink and orange clouds. Phones were out and pictures were snapped. Seconds later, the sun appeared, first a timid slice and then in its blazing glory. All too soon, it was too bright to look at.

  “Look,” a small boy yelled. He pointed down at the glass.

  I gasped as a flash of black beneath the boat caught everyone’s attention. Then another and another. We had come across a small pod of dolphins. They danced and played around the boat as everyone reached for their cameras to take videos. I couldn’t decide who looked happier—the people on the boat or the dolphins who leaped and dove and smiled. Okay, so they probably weren’t really smiling, but it seemed so.

  Leah was too busy keeping an eye on everyone to make sure no one went overboard to talk to me. After the dolphins moved on, we chugged slowly back to the marina as Leah told stories about the fishing industry, storms, and early settlers.

  “In the forties, during a hurricane, the town of Destin began to flood. In a panic, the residents helped carve the East Pass, letting the water flowing into Choctawhatchee Bay out into the ocean. It forever altered the bay and the landscape of Destin—for better or worse.”

  Once we were back at the marina, I let everyone off the boat before me. Finally, it was just Leah and me.

  “All ashore,” Leah said. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Those dolphins were amazing. And your stories. The tour was even better than I’d heard.” That was a small fib. I hadn’t heard anything about the tour. But it was fun.

  “How do you like working at the Sea Glass?” Leah asked.

  “It’s interesting. The beach is beautiful.”

  “Vivi isn’t herself. She’s usually charming and funny.”

  “It’s understandable.” Was the word out about my part ownership in the bar? I didn’t want to come right out and ask. “I’m worried about the Elwell situation and its effect on Vivi. Have you heard anything?” I might as well be blunt. All my trying to eavesdrop at the bar had yielded next to no information.

  “Nothing solid. Just the rampant rumors and innuendos.”

  “What’s the rumor mill saying?”

  “The three big rumors are: Elwell was gambling, had a brain tumor, or had some kind of deal going on with someone.”

  The brain tumor seemed the least likely explanation for a murder. Although it might explain his strange behavior, like wearing the armadillo shell as a hat. But it wouldn’t explain why someone stabbed him and left him to die by a dumpster. If Elwell did have a brain tumor and had asked a friend to help him on his way, there must be a gentler, more dignified way to do it. The crime seemed planned because someone had taken the time to set Vivi up. Gambling debts seemed the most likely, but the other heritage owners indicated he had money, giving his wife ten million reasons for wanting him dead. And if he had that kind of money, of course he had deals going on.

  “Do you know his daughter?” I asked. Elwell’s daughter was on my list of suspects. She stole from Vivi, her dad was loaded. It didn’t make sense.

  “Ivy? I went to school with her.”

  “Is she in any kind of trouble?” I was thinking about her stealing money from Vivi.

  “Probably. We don’t really run with the same crowd. But the town’s small enough, it’s hard not to bump into people. Why are you asking all these questions?”

  She had a right to know. “The sheriff seems to have spent a lot of time questioning Vivi.”

  “I heard that. Everyone’s worried.” Leah started walking toward the ticket office for the glass-bottom boat. I went with her.

  Was everyone worried? Someone—the murderer—was probably grateful. Their plan to set up Vivi was working. “Does Ivy still live in Emerald Cove?”

  “She mov
ed to Destin a couple of years ago. But she’s around often enough. Especially when she was working at the Sea Glass.”

  “Do you know where she works now?” I asked.

  “The Crow’s Nest, over on Okaloosa Island. It’s a dive. But don’t expect to find out anything from her. She hates Vivi.”

  All the more reason to talk to her. “Thanks. And thanks for the boat ride this morning. It was great.” I put going to the Crow’s Nest on my list of things to do. But first I had to get to work and face Vivi.

  CHAPTER 19

  All my efforts to talk to Vivi had been thwarted. At two o’clock, Ann Williams came in and took a table in the corner opposite Buford and Ed, who were playing cards. I took my order pad and walked over to Ann.

  “Thanks for fixing the door. How much do I owe you?”

  A smile played around her lush lips. “I’ll send you a bill.”

  “Okay, great. What do you want to drink?”

  “Just sparkling water with lemon.”

  “Do you have to go back to work?” I asked.

  “Hopefully not today.”

  “Everyone deserves some downtime.”

  As I walked back to the bar, I tried to figure Ann out. She certainly wasn’t Midwest or Southern friendly. Maybe she just liked being mysterious. Always with the black clothes and all. She had a New Yorker’s attitude, but without the accent. She had some kind of Southern-sounding accent, but I couldn’t place it. I shrugged as I fixed her drink—sparkling water I could handle. I glanced at the door to Vivi’s office, which had remained closed except for a couple of brief moments that all seemed perfectly timed with me having just picked up a tray of drinks to deliver.