Without a Brew

by Ellie Alexander

  Once in the kitchen, I started on breakfast prep by brewing a strong pot of coffee and heating water for tea. Then I spread the thick-cut bacon onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper and set them in the oven to broil. Next I chopped fruit and arranged cups with vanilla yogurt and a drizzle of honey. I wanted to make the stout French toast last so that I could serve it hot once our guests were up and moving.

  I filled carafes with coffee and hot water and took them along with a tray of the yogurt and fruit cups to the upstairs lounge. None of the guests were awake yet, so I took the opportunity to set seven place settings and arrange packets of assorted teas and sugar and cream on the table.

  Then I returned to the kitchen to assemble the French toast. I started by whipping eggs, a dash of salt, vanilla, brown sugar, and a cup of our dark chocolate stout. I whisked them together until the mixture was light and frothy. Next I cut hearty slices of the brioche and dredged them in the egg and beer mixture. I layered the bread in a baking dish and set it aside. For the filling, I mixed cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and more stout. Once it was smooth, I spread it generously over the eggy bread, sprinkled on frozen blueberries, and then added another layer of dipped brioche. I finished the French toast with a dusting of cinnamon and more blueberries. Then I slid it into a hot oven to bake for thirty minutes. While it baked, I poured maple, blueberry, and raspberry syrups into ceramic dishes and took them upstairs.

  Ali and Brad were seated at one end of the table drinking coffee, wearing matching plush robes and slippers.

  “Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you,” I said, placing the syrups in the middle of the table.

  “No, we were roused by the smell of this delicious coffee.” Ali warmed her hands with the ceramic earthenware mug.

  “Excellent. Breakfast should be ready in about twenty minutes.” I left to finish prep. By the time I returned with the bubbling stout French toast and a platter of bacon, Kevin, Jenny, Mel, and Swagger had joined the table. The only person missing was Liv.

  “How did everyone sleep?” I asked as I dished up servings of my beer-infused breakfast.

  Jenny batted her fake eyelashes at Kevin. “I don’t remember sleeping much.”

  He ignored the insinuation. “Do you have anything stronger? I thought since we were staying at a brewery, we’d get a real beer for breakfast.” He looked like he’d had a rough night. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks puffy.

  I pointed to the grandfather clock. “Unfortunately, we don’t serve beer this early. The tasting room opens at eleven. You’re welcome to come down for a pint then.”

  “I thought this was breakfast with beer.” Kev looked to his friends for a reaction.

  “Yes, all of our breakfasts are made with our signature beers.” I went on to explain that I had made the French toast and creamy filling with our stout.

  He wasn’t impressed. “That’s not going to get my morning buzz on.”

  “Probably not,” I agreed.

  I went downstairs to refill the coffee and tea carafes. On my way, I considered stopping to knock on Liv’s door. I didn’t want her to miss out on breakfast, but I figured she was likely trying to avoid the other breakfast guests. If she was hungry when she woke up, I could make a fruit and yogurt cup and some toast for her. I felt bad that she was skipping the morning meal, but I couldn’t blame her for wanting to avoid any drama and I could save her a plate to warm up later.

  Aside from Kevin, everyone else was complimentary about breakfast. By the time I had finished cleaning up, Kat and Garrett had both made their way into the kitchen.

  “Man, Sloan, I don’t know about this whole breakfast thing,” Garrett said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “Why?”

  “I sat in my room smelling those delicious aromas. I kept wondering how bad it would be if I went and swiped one of the guests’ plates.”

  “Me too,” Kat agreed. She opted for a cup of hot chocolate. I appreciated that she wore a pair of flannel pajama pants, UGGs, and a Nitro hoodie. No one could claim that our style at the brewery was anything other than laid-back.

  “Don’t worry. I saved us some.” I pulled out a second small dish of French toast and bacon.

  “I’m giving you a raise.” Garrett pressed his hands together in thanks. He wore yet another beer T-shirt. This one read BEER MAKES ME HOPPY.

  I would have loved to steal a glance at Garrett’s closet, as his collection of terrible T-shirts with beer puns appeared to be limitless.

  “You don’t have any money to give me a raise. I do your finances,” I bantered back.

  “Fine, but when the money starts pouring in, you get a raise.” He helped himself to a plate of the gooey French toast.

  We went over the schedule for the day while polishing off breakfast. Kat would be responsible for touching up the guest rooms. Simple tasks like making the beds and restocking towels. I needed to make our daily soup and assemble snack trays for the pub. Garrett would open the bar and check on the kegs.

  With a clear plan for the beginning of the day, we parted ways. Knowing that we would likely have a large skiing crowd in later, I decided on a beef stew with carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, and a secret ingredient—stout. The stew should satisfy even the hungriest of appetites. Then I would assemble meat, veggie, and cheese trays, load up the pub with pretzels and chips, and make a batch of my famous beer brownies for dessert.

  The morning passed quickly. Shortly before noon, Kat came into the kitchen with a worried look on her face. She had showered and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a T-shirt. “The guest rooms are all cleaned, but I think we have a problem.”

  My heart rate spiked. “What kind of a problem?”

  “Who was the woman who was staying alone? Liv or Liz?”

  “Liv.”

  “Right, Liv. Her room is a mess. Like, total disaster. It looks like someone had a party up there. Her clothes and toiletries are all over the floor. I don’t know, maybe she’s super messy, but I’ve never seen anything like it. And the really strange thing is that the bed is made. It doesn’t look like it was even slept in.”

  “What?” I placed the lid on top of my stew. “Did you see her after I left last night?”

  “No, but it slowed way down after about nine, so Garrett told me I could go out. I went and met some friends for a movie.”

  “Okay. You sit tight. I’ll go check with Garrett and then head upstairs.” I hurried to the bar to find a small lunch crowd already gathered in the tasting room.

  “Sloan, good timing. We have two orders for meat and cheese trays.” Garrett expertly topped off the head of a foamy pint.

  “No problem. I’ll grab them in a sec, but first, you haven’t seen Liv by chance?”

  He shook his head. “No, not since last night. Why?”

  “She didn’t come to breakfast, and Kat said that her room is a mess but that her bed wasn’t slept in.”

  “Weird.”

  “Did you see her last night?”

  He thought about it for a minute. “I thought I saw her go upstairs, but I think you were still here. Wasn’t that when Brad and Ali came down? I never saw her after that.”

  “That’s when I remember seeing her too. She left without her coat, which I assumed meant she wasn’t going far, but I never saw her return.”

  “Are you worried?” Garrett frowned. He glanced around the tasting room, as if hopeful she might be at one of the tables.

  “I don’t know. She might have gone out for a morning walk. I’ll grab those trays for you and then go take a closer look at her room.”

  I did just that.

  A cold chill ran up my arms as I stepped into the room. It felt weird to invade someone’s personal space, but if Kat was right and Liv hadn’t come back last night, we would probably need to let Chief Meyers know. One glance around the room confirmed Kat’s suspicion. Something weird had gone on here. As Kat had mentioned, Liv’s bed was made, but everything else had been strewn about th
e room. Her suitcase was open, and her clothes were scattered throughout the room. Her purse hung on a hook by the door, but its contents had been dumped on the floor—the tube of lip gloss I had seen her applying last night had been smashed. A wave of fear washed over me. Something wasn’t right. Either Liv had freaked out and dumped out all of her things, or someone else had been in her room.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  I RACED DOWNSTAIRS. KAT WAS pulling pints at the bar. Garrett stood at the far end of the long wood counter, filling bowls with chips and peanuts. “Kat, can you hold down the fort for a couple minutes? I want to talk to Garrett. You were right about Liv’s room. I’m going to call Chief Meyers. Something about it feels really wrong.”

  Her eyes widened. “Yeah, of course. Do you think she’s okay?”

  I could hear the breathless quality of my voice. “Honestly, I don’t know, but it’s definitely time to involve the police.”

  Garrett caught my eye. I motioned for him to follow me into the brewery. “What’s the word?”

  “She didn’t sleep here for sure. Her purse and jacket are up there, but everything’s been dumped on the floor, like someone was going through her stuff. I have a bad feeling about this. I think I should call Chief Meyers. If she had gone for a walk, wouldn’t she have taken her coat and even her purse? And given her demeanor last night, I can’t imagine that she would have tossed everything around the room. I think someone’s been in there. She could be in danger. What do you think?”

  “Absolutely. We should call the chief.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I hope she’s okay.”

  “Me too.” I thought to last night and Liv’s strange reaction to seeing Brad and Ali, and her argument with Kevin. Maybe there was a simple explanation, like she found somewhere else to stay in an attempt to avoid a breakfast confrontation. But if that were the case, why wouldn’t she have come back for her things?

  I put in a call to the police station. Chief Meyers wasn’t in, but the officer I spoke with took extensive notes and promised he would have her come to the pub as soon as she returned. There was nothing to do but wait, so I went to the bar.

  Ali and Brad had pushed their stools so close together they were practically sitting on each other’s laps. Yet again, they were dressed in matching outfits. This time in jeans and hoodies that read HIS and HERS, with arrows pointing toward each other.

  I motioned to the nearly empty tasting tray in front of them. “Did you have a favorite? Can I pour you a pint of something?”

  Brad held up a taster of our winter ale, aptly named the Winter Warmer. “This is my top choice. I’ll take a pint. How about you, hon?” He massaged Ali’s shoulder. I thought I noticed a flash of irritation on her face, but she smiled broadly. “I liked that one best, too.”

  “Excellent, two pints of our Winter Warmer, coming up.”

  I brought them their full-bodied copper ales. This beer was one of the best we had brewed, with a malty sweetness, smooth bitterness, and a hit of bright hops on the finish. “You’re not skiing today?” I asked.

  Ali gave Brad a strange look. He jumped in. “We were going to, but it ended up being a later night than we expected. Your beers are too good—we had one pint too many, as they say, so decided to do lunch and have a couple pints now and maybe get in a few late-afternoon runs. The lifts stay open late, right?”

  In my experience most skiers saved lunch and pints for after a day on the slopes.

  “Did you help close the pub down last night?” I asked, placing a bowl of Doritos in front of them.

  Again, Ali’s face tensed.

  Brad responded for her. “It was pretty fun last night. We got to talking to another couple in town from Seattle. Ended up staying until Garrett kicked us all out, right, honey?”

  “Right.” Ali’s teeth clenched.

  “You didn’t happen to see the woman who was sitting over there yesterday evening, did you?” I pointed to a barstool two chairs down. “Her name is Liv. She’s staying here too.”

  “Nope. Didn’t see her.” Brad responded so quickly he didn’t even have a chance to look in the direction I had pointed.

  Ali simply didn’t respond.

  I dropped it and went to check on the other guests in the tasting room. Chief Meyers ambled in not long after. She wore her standard khaki police uniform along with a wool scarf and a cable-knit hat.

  “Afternoon, Sloan. I hear there’s trouble?” She had a notepad at the ready. I had known Chief Meyers for almost twenty years and appreciated her direct approach and the fact that she didn’t rattle easily.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure.” I proceeded to tell her about Liv.

  She scratched a few notes and listened intently. When I finished, she flipped the notebook shut. “Let’s take a look upstairs.”

  I took her to Liv’s room.

  Chief Meyers tugged a pair of blue latex gloves on before examining the contents of Liv’s purse.

  “I already looked through that,” I said pointing to my bare hands. “I never thought of fingerprints.”

  “It’s fine. Call it a precaution. If this turns into a missing persons case, we’ll sweep the room. I’ll anticipate finding prints from you and anyone on staff.”

  “Right.” I watched as Meyers sorted through Liv’s things. Next she checked the bathroom cabinet and bedside tables.

  “Do you have a photo of the missing guest?” she asked after making a few notes.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Any other information? Can you give me a description? Her credit card info? Residence? How did she book the room?”

  “She did pay with a credit card.” I tried to recall what Liv had been wearing last night. “She’s about five six, with honey-blond shoulder-length hair and dark eyes. Her hair is definitely dyed. It doesn’t match her skin tone.”

  Chief Meyers noted my description. “Is there anything else? How’d she get to Leavenworth? Did she drive?”

  “Yes.” I felt relieved to be able to at least provide the chief with some tangible information. “I know she drove because she didn’t want to have to drive back to Spokane last night. I have her license plate on file downstairs. We keep plate numbers so that we can track parking in the back lot. Otherwise, you know how insane parking gets in the village. I can grab it for you.”

  “Good.” The chief made another note. “Did she seem distressed? Had too much to drink?”

  “Well, there were a couple strange things.” I told her about Liv’s reaction to Brad and Ali and her argument with Kevin. “I sort of wondered if she decided to stay at another hotel in town because she didn’t want to face any of them at breakfast.”

  “Typically you’d take your bags and credit cards with you to a new hotel.” Meyers’s tone indicated that she thought the circumstances were suspicious, too. “Not to mention, why are her things scattered around the room? I don’t know many people who unpack like this.” To prove her point, she lifted a pair of Liv’s tights with her pen. “Nope. I don’t like the looks of this at all. Did you see anyone else come in or out of this room?”

  I thought for a moment. “No. But, I’m not upstairs much. I set up breakfast this morning and noticed that Liv didn’t join the others. Her door was shut, and I never bothered to knock. I thought she was sleeping in and avoiding Kevin.”

  Chief Meyers removed her gloves and tossed them in the garbage can.

  “What do you do now?” We left the room and returned downstairs. I found the registration form Liv had filled out last night and gave the chief her license plate number, credit card, and address.

  “I’ll have my team canvass the village. We’ll check the hospital, hotels, train station. We’ll look for her car. I’ll be in touch. If you think of anything else, or if Liv returns, call me ASAP.”

  “Thanks, Chief.” I walked her to the door. Tiny flakes fell from the sky, dusting the sidewalk. I hoped that the police would find Liv soon. It was a cold day to be outside without a coat or gl
oves.

  “What’s the word?” Garrett asked when I scooted around to the back of the bar.

  “Chief Meyers is going to look for her. She said she’ll check the hospital and ask around the village.”

  “I didn’t even think about the hospital.” Garrett wiped a tap handle with a cotton dish towel.

  “Neither did I. I guess we could have started there.”

  “It’s probably better to leave it to the police.” He cleaned the next handle. Brewing is as much about cleanliness as anything else. Not only did we keep the fermenting tanks in the brewery spotless, but the bar was always wiped down and glistening.

  I was relieved that Kevin, Jenny, and their friends weren’t anywhere around. They must have ventured out to ski or explore the village. Brad and Ali lingered over a tasting tray. I circulated the room, picking up empty pint glasses and taking lunch orders.

  “Hi, Sloan.” Taylor, the local mechanic, greeted me with a grin. His denim coveralls were splatted with grease. I appreciated the fact that Nitro was the kind of space where people from all walks of life gathered. From working locals to tourists, we were a spot where you could relax over an afternoon pint and a hot-from-the-oven pretzel with gooey cheese.

  “Are you working on a Saturday?”

  “Ski bus broke down again.” He sneezed into his arm, leaving a grease stain on his nose. “I keep telling the guys it’s time to upgrade. The thing is a piece of junk, but hey, it keeps me in the black, so I won’t complain.”

  “Fair enough.” I smiled and handed him a coaster. “Can I get you a beer? Lunch?”

  “I’ll take a pint of your stout and whatever your soup is today.”

  “Do you want to hear about the soup?”

  “No, Nitro makes the best soups in the village, everyone knows that.”