“I understand.”
“I’ve tried to be a good friend and support her while still encouraging her to move on, but I think she may have taken things too far. You’re saying that woman—Liv—is dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Jenny went after her last night. She said she was going to teach her a lesson and prove to Kevin that she would do anything for him. I thought she was tipsy and just spouting off, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean, she went after Liv?”
“Liv left the bar. It was late. I don’t remember how late, but Jenny took off after her. She was gone for a few hours. I saw her sneaking back to her room late last night. I couldn’t sleep and went to the little library alcove to borrow a book.”
“What do you think Jenny might have done?”
Mel held her head in her hands. “I don’t know.” Her voice was thick with emotion. I thought she might cry. “I don’t want to believe that she would hurt someone, but she was pretty buzzed, and she’s obsessed with Kevin. Swagger, my boyfriend, and I have been trying to intervene. He knows even more than I do that Kevin is not into her. It’s a one-way relationship. Kevin only asks her out when everyone else turns him down. Jenny’s a smart girl, but she’s oblivious when it comes to Kevin. What if Jenny accidentally hurt Liv? I know she wouldn’t do anything on purpose, but she might have…” Mel trailed off. I assumed she didn’t want to say out loud what she was thinking internally—that Jenny might have killed Liv.
The same thought had crossed my mind.
“I don’t know what to do. Should I talk to the police? I don’t want to get Jenny in trouble, but if she had anything to do with this, I can’t stay silent.”
I reached out to pat her knee. “You’re doing the right thing, and yes, you should tell the police what you know. It is probably nothing, but a woman is dead, so any information that you have to share is critical to their case.”
She started to sniffle. “I never should have come this weekend. You know when you have a bad gut feeling about something?”
I smiled. “Yes, I do.”
“I had that about this weekend. Kevin is such a jerk, but Jenny wanted moral support, and I thought I could go do my own thing and ski. Now I feel like I’m in some kind of nightmare.”
“If it would make you feel any better, I’m happy to introduce you to our police chief. She is professional and extremely reasonable.”
Mel rubbed her eyes. “Okay.”
I took her upstairs to meet Chief Meyers. Was Mel right? Could her friend have killed Liv in a fit of rage?
CHAPTER
SEVEN
CHIEF MEYERS LISTENED TO MEL’S story with her usual stoicism. She took a few notes and offered a curt nod every now and then, but otherwise her face was devoid of emotion. “Where is Ms. Jenny Ankeny now? I presume still upstairs?”
“Uh, she was in the taproom a while ago.” Mel gnawed on a hangnail. “I don’t know where she is now.”
“Thank you for your statement. It goes without saying that none of you are free to leave Leavenworth without checking with me. Understood?” Chief Meyers’s tone conveyed the seriousness of the situation.
“I get it.” Mel winced in pain as she chewed the edge of her nail. “Can we go night skiing, or do we need to literally stay here in the pub?”
“Skiing is fine as long as you return here for the evening. You’re not cleared to leave the village permanently until I tell you otherwise.”
“Okay. Okay. I won’t leave, and I’ll do my best to make sure everyone else stays.” She didn’t sound convinced.
Meyers gave her a piercing look. “Not your responsibility. If they attempt to leave, I’ll arrest them.”
Mel looked to me. “What do I do if they try to leave? Kevin won’t listen to me. He doesn’t really even listen to much of what Swagger tells him, and they’re best friends.”
I walked her downstairs. “Like Chief Meyers said, you’re not in control of your friends.” That was a life lesson I hoped I had imparted to Alex. One thing I learned from the foster care system is personal responsibility. We are the only people in charge of our own destiny.
“But I know Kev. He’s going to try and leave. I promise you he won’t listen to me.”
“I know Chief Meyers. She’ll ensure he doesn’t leave. She’s not kidding about arresting him, so maybe you can tell him that.”
Mel’s face went pale. “I can’t believe that I’m mixed up in this. I thought this was going to be a fun ski weekend.”
We parted ways at the bar, and I went to talk to Garrett, who was explaining the best way to sample our tasting trays to a group of tourists gathered at a high-top table. There is an art to sampling craft beer. We recommend starting with the lightest beer styles like pilsners and pales, working up to hoppy reds and IPAs, and finishing with the darkest stouts.
When he saw me, he excused himself from the conversation and came to the opposite side of the bar. “Well, don’t leave me hanging.” He leaned his elbow on the wood countertop. Nitro had a casual vibe, with a large chalkboard menu behind the bar, a small tasting room with an assortment of high-top tables and booths left over from when Garrett’s great-aunt Tess ran the space as a diner, and a small outdoor patio that was closed for the winter. Garrett was a minimalist by nature. I appreciated that, especially since Mac had more packrat-like tendencies. But when it had come to furnishing the pub, the blank white walls, cavernous ceiling, and open-concept brewing operation left it feeling cold and unwelcoming. A few small touches, like Edison string lights, a wall of black-and-white photos, and hanging wreaths of hops and greenery had made a world of difference. Of course, if April Ablin had her druthers, we would have decked the space out with as much German kitsch as possible. Her idea of impeccable taste involved plastering every wall, ceiling, nook, and cranny with mass-produced cheap German flags, cuckoo clocks, garden gnomes, and pewter beer steins.
I lowered my voice and leaned closer. “I was upstairs with Mel and Chief Meyers. She actually thinks that Jenny might have killed Liv.”
“Who?” Garrett looked confused. “Chief Meyers or Mel?”
“Mel.” I told him about my conversation. “It’s possible, isn’t it? If Jenny went after Liv last night. They could have gotten into a fight. Maybe it wasn’t intentional. Or maybe Jenny had other plans. Could she have been the person who dumped paint on Liv’s car?” As I thought aloud, I wished that I had asked Chief Meyers about the cause of death. Had Liv drowned, or was she killed first and then tossed in the river? The thought made my stomach queasy. I steadied myself on the edge of the distressed wood bar.
“At the moment, I would guess that all theories are on the table. Unless Chief Meyers knows more than she’s telling us.” Garrett knocked on the bar twice. “I haven’t had a ton of interaction with Jenny, but she doesn’t present as being very stable. Either is possible. Maybe Liv caught her vandalizing her car and they got in a fight. Then things could have escalated from there.”
“Exactly.” I wanted to talk to Jenny, but I was going to have to get in line because Meyers was ready to make her exit and waved me over.
“Sloan, Garrett, you know the drill.” She gave us a two-fingered salute as she left.
“Now what?” Garrett asked.
“I guess we wait. They have to notify Liv’s family, and Meyers explicitly told Mel that no one is allowed to leave. We might be in for a long night.”
Garrett massaged a tap handle. “At least there’s beer.”
“That could be a slogan for one of your shirts.”
“What, you don’t like this one?” He pretended to be hurt. April never failed to be chagrined by his collection of beer pun T-shirts. She wanted us to subscribe to the “Leavenworth way of life,” which, in her warped interpretation, meant dressing in dirndls and lederhosen. I hated to break it to her that it was never going to happen.
He pointed to his intentionally faded red T-shirt. “You’re dissing on hoppiness? Come on, Sloa
n, this is a classic.”
“It’s bad.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Exactly. That’s the point. The punnier the better.”
I didn’t try to argue with him. Brewers were constantly trying to outdo their competitors with clever beer names. As the craft brew craze had gained national and international notoriety, it had become harder and harder to create punny names for our pints. Many of the bigger brewing operations had trademarked hundreds of potential beer puns, most of which weren’t even in use but being held in a virtual vault so no one else could come in and scoop them up. It was a point of contention within the brewing community and rightfully so. The big guys not only reserved the best beer names, but they also bought out the trendiest hop varieties for decades. Nanobreweries like us had to bargain with hop farmers for a tiny slice of the pie.
Kevin barged into our conversation, slapping a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. “Can I get a beer or what?” His face was as red as a pint of our amber. “I’ve been sitting there trying to get your attention for a half hour.”
That was an exaggeration. I’d only been behind the bar for a few minutes.
Garrett came to my rescue. “You may have noticed that there’s more going on this afternoon than just pouring beer.”
I appreciated the gesture, but I didn’t need his help.
Kevin glared at us. “That’s your business plan? You’re going to stop serving because there are police around.” His sarcastic, condescending tone made me want to slap him. “Brilliant, brilliant idea. Why would you want to make money? You’re doing this for the love of craft, am I right?”
“We’re not stopping service, but I would hope that you’d employ more patience knowing that the police are investigating the death of one of our guests.” I kept my face neutral. Kevin wanted a reaction from us. I wasn’t about to give it to him. “What would you like?” I forced a smile.
“I’ll take four of those IPAs.” He pointed a short finger at the taps. “What’s the big deal, anyway? Didn’t that woman jump into the river? Not a wise move in the middle of winter, but she didn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed.”
His reaction to Liv’s death was disturbing. “No, the police think that she was murdered.” I stared at him.
He physically took a step away from the bar, as if my words had struck him. “Murdered? Who said that?”
“The police,” I repeated, placing the first pint in front of him.
“They think she was murdered?” He had lost some of his arrogance.
“Yep.” I handed him another pint.
“Are they coming here?” He shot his head from side to side as if Chief Meyers was about to sneak up behind him and cuff him.
“They are. The police chief will be taking statements and interviewing everyone who was here last night. They’ll be retracing Liv’s steps, and they’ve told everyone to stay in town until they’ve cleared you.” I shot him another meaningful look.
He reached for his vape pen and flipped it in his fingers. “You mean, like, they’re going to want to talk to me?”
Garrett caught my eye across the bar.
I stood firm. “Like I said, everyone who was here last night will be questioned.”
“But I didn’t even know her.” He blinked rapidly.
“That doesn’t matter. This is a murder investigation. The police are trying to piece together every movement Liv made before her death.” I felt an internal satisfaction watching Kevin try to regain control of his emotions. Maybe I was stooping to his level, but at the moment, I didn’t care.
He grabbed one of the beers. “Well, I don’t even think I have to talk to them, and they can’t keep me here. It’s a free country, you know.”
“I don’t think that’s the way the legal system works.”
“Whatever.” He took two of the pints to their table near the front windows, then returned for the second set of beers. “Do you know the police chief? Is he some kind of backwoods guy?”
“She is not.”
“She? Your police chief is a woman. Great. That should be a joke.”
It was everything I could do to contain the urge to reach over the bar and smack him. Who was this guy? Mel was right to be concerned about Jenny’s well-being. I hated to admit it, but Kevin made Mac look like a knight in shining armor.
I watched him tell Mel and the rest of the group about how ridiculous it was that the police were going to question them. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was reacting so strongly because he had something to hide. Why would it matter, otherwise?
Jenny appeared in the doorway. Where had she been?
She went over to the table, whispered something to her friends, and then came up to the bar. “Mel said I should talk to you about getting some extra towels?” Her hands trembled as she spoke.
“You need extra towels for your room?” I had stocked every guest room with stacks of fluffy towels yesterday.
“Yeah. Can I get a couple now?” Her voice sounded as shaky as her hands.
“Sure, come this way.” I led her upstairs, where I unlocked the supply closet. “Are you okay? You seem a little jittery.”
She looked to her hands, which quaked. Was she cold or going into shock?
“Why don’t we go into the lounge, and I’ll get you a cup of hot tea?”
Her only response was a half nod. I grabbed two folded towels, locked the closet, and guided her into the lounge. The teakettle had gone cold. I flipped it on. “Do you like lemon?”
“Sure.” She rubbed her feet back and forth on the carpet.
While the water warmed, I sat next to her. “Is there anything I can help with?”
She shuddered. “I don’t know. I think I’m in real trouble.”
“Real trouble how?” Was she going to confess to murdering Liv?
“You know that woman who was at the bar last night?”
“Liv,” I offered.
“Yeah, yeah. Liv. The police think that I killed her. They think that I killed a woman. I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to do. I called my parents. They’re in Seattle. My dad is finding a lawyer and told me not to say anything to the police until I have a lawyer. I think I might be in real trouble.”
Had Chief Meyers already interrogated Jenny? Because if she was walking around the village, the chief obviously hadn’t made an arrest.
“I’m such an idiot. I never should have followed her last night.”
The teakettle whistled. I got up to pour our cups. “You followed Liv?”
She kicked off her boots and continued to rub her feet on the carpet. I was worried that she was going to leave marks in the floor with the force she was using. “Yeah, but not to kill her. I just wanted to mess with her. She was so rude to Kev. I couldn’t let her get away with that.”
I plunged lemon-ginger tea bags into the piping hot water. “When was this?” My original theory that Jenny had been responsible for vandalizing Liv’s car was seeming more likely.
“Late. I’m not sure. It’s all kind of fuzzy. I was pretty buzzed. I think it was after midnight. Liv took off, and I told Kev and the rest of my friends that I was going to go have it out with her. That’s it, I swear. I followed her down to the park. It was kind of creepy. It was dark and cold. She was practically running. I couldn’t keep up with her. Once I got down to the bridge, I lost sight of her. There are all those trails that go off in multiple directions, and it was too hard to see, so I turned around and came back.”
I handed her a cup of tea. “Did you explain that to Chief Meyers?”
“Yes.” Jenny sounded unsure.
“But?” I sat next to her on the couch, careful not to spill my tea.
“Like I said, I had had a few pints. I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been. I didn’t want to come back to the bar and not have anything to show for my efforts, so I decided to try and sneak into her room. I didn’t even know what I was going to do when I got in there. Maybe, like, break something and have her get blamed.
I didn’t have a plan, but her door was unlocked when I came up here.”
I couldn’t believe Jenny was telling me this. “Then what happened?”
“Nothing. Someone had already gone through her stuff. The place was trashed. Her clothes were everywhere. The contents of her purse had been dumped on the bed. It freaked me out. I wasn’t sure if she had gone nuts or if someone else had been in there.”
Jenny questioning Liv’s mental stability was the textbook definition of irony.
“What did you do?” I asked.
She sipped the tea. “I took off. I went to my room and went to bed. I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember was Mel knocking on our door and telling us that we should get up for breakfast.”
“And you’re sure that’s all that happened?” I gave her my best mom look.
“Yeah, what do you mean?”
“Did you do something to her car?”
Jenny’s top lip curled. “Her car? No. I didn’t touch her car.”
I wasn’t sure that I believed her. Her skittish behavior made me wonder if she was lying. “What did Chief Meyers say?”
Jenny released her grasp on the teacup and held out her left hand. “She took me in for fingerprinting. I know that she’s going to arrest me. They’re going to find my prints on Liv’s doorknob and in her room. I’ve seen enough movies to know that finding my fingerprints in a dead woman’s room is bad. Like, so, so bad. That’s why my dad told me not to meet with the police until he and my mom get a lawyer. But what do I do? What if they come back and want to talk to me again, or worse, arrest me?”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” I tried to console her. “Chief Meyers isn’t likely to jump to conclusions without evidence and proof.”
“But that’s the problem. She’s going to have proof. I’m telling you my fingerprints are all over Liv’s room.”
I wondered how truthful Jenny was being. Why would her prints be all over the room if she had simply walked in, realized that someone else had rifled through Liv’s things, and left again?
“What about her car?” I asked again, pausing for effect.
Without a Brew Page 6
