Without a Brew

by Ellie Alexander

  “Fine.” Kev flung his laptop bag over his shoulder. “Add this to the list of negative comments I’m going to put on your Yelp review.” He marched out the door with Jenny tagging behind.

  His empty threat didn’t rattle me, but seeing Jenny trail after him did. I hoped she knew what she was doing. At least they would be surrounded by people at Der Keller. The sooner Chief Meyers made an arrest, the better.

  Ali breezed through the tasting room shortly after Kevin and Jenny left. She was dressed in running gear.

  “Off for some exercise,” I noted.

  “Yeah. I heard there are pretty amazing trails around Blackbird Island.”

  “True, but they might be hard to navigate with the snow right now.” Running was a popular sport in the village in the spring, summer, and early fall, but our winter snowfall was more in line with snowshoeing than trail running.

  “I’ll be fine. I ran there the other day.”

  That was an odd comment, given her first statement about hearing there were good trails.

  “You did?”

  She stretched a thin pair of black running gloves over her hands. “Yeah. The trails were fine.” She didn’t wait for my reply. Instead she stretched her arms over her head and left.

  The trails were fine? That was impossible. The trails were buried in feet of snow. The main trails that circled the riverfront park were groomed for cross-country skiing in the winter. Something didn’t add up. Could there be another reason that Ali was “running” on Blackbird Island?

  Part of me wanted to follow her, but duty called. A group of local workers on their lunch break came into the tasting room. Taylor was among them.

  I went to take their order. Not surprisingly, they ordered bowls of loaded baked potato soup, bread, and meat and cheese plates to go along with their lunchtime pints.

  After I noted their beer choices, Taylor stood and pushed back his barstool. “I can help carry our drinks.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled as he walked with me to the bar.

  “I wanted to ask you something, Sloan.” He wiped grease from his hands onto his coveralls.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  We stopped at a high table a few feet from the taps.

  “Have you seen Chief Meyers around?” He glanced from side to side as if she was about to jump from behind one of the tables.

  “She was here earlier, why?”

  His nails were thick with dark grease. “I’m kind of avoiding her.”

  “Avoiding her?”

  “Yeah. She found out something pretty important from my past, and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do next.”

  What was this about?

  “You know the chief as well as me. Whatever you have to tell her, I’m sure she’ll be reasonable.”

  “No, see, that’s the thing. I kind of lied to her earlier, and now it’s going to look bad if I change my story.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is it weird for me to be talking to you? You’re so good at listening, and everyone in the village knows that you’re a vault.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  He massaged the tops of his thighs. “No, that’s a compliment. I guess I was just hoping that I could use you as a sounding board.”

  “You can,” I assured him. “But I do have to warn you that my vault doesn’t include keeping any secret that might involve evidence in a murder investigation.”

  “Yeah, I know. I get that.” He hesitated for a moment.

  Had I lost the opportunity?

  “Here’s the thing: I knew Lily. She and I went to high school together.”

  “Oh.” I held my body as still as possible. I didn’t want to give Taylor any indication that I already knew this information.

  “We were good friends.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It’s complicated.” He knocked on the tabletop. “There was an accident. Lily, me, and our friend Chloe—we were the three amigos. We did everything together. You know what high school is like. We had some wild and crazy times.”

  Having a current high schooler made me flinch at Taylor’s words. I only hoped that Alex wouldn’t sum up his high school experience as wild and crazy.

  “Chloe was the crazy one. She was always up for an adventure. She had no fear. Lily was more cautious. She tried to keep Chloe in check, but it was pointless. Chloe never let up. She could convince you to jump off a bridge for her—literally.”

  I wondered where Taylor was going with this story.

  “We were young. I thought Chloe’s fearless streak was fun. Lily didn’t. She was fed up. She wanted to break up our group of friends. She said that something bad was going to happen if we let Chloe run wild. I didn’t listen to her. I should have, because she was right. Something bad—something terrible happened.”

  “What?”

  “Chloe ended up dead.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  I ALREADY KNEW AS MUCH, but I asked Taylor, “How did Chloe die?”

  “A stupid dare. Teenagers who thought we were invincible.” He wrung his hands as he spoke. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. “It was Chloe’s idea. We went to the river for the afternoon, just the three of us. It was a hot day in early spring, but the water was still cold. Really cold. We had some beers and lounged in the sun. Lily and I hadn’t planned to swim. Maybe splash around a little. Chloe had another plan. She wanted to see how far we could get. She wanted to swim across the river.”

  I knew that most of the rivers in the region were fed from mountain snowmelt. There were always warnings in the early season for boaters and swimmers to be aware of cold temps, potential debris, and swift currents.

  “Chloe wasn’t a great swimmer. Lily and I told her not to do it, but she jumped in and started swimming. The next thing we knew, she vanished under the water. We both went in after her, but it was too late.”

  Taylor started to cry. “I watched her. I watched my best friend, and there was nothing I could do. I’ll never forget the look of terror on her face when she gasped for breath and went under the water for good.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He tried to wipe away a tear and managed to smear grease across his face in the process. “That’s not the worst part, though.”

  I waited for him to continue.

  “We left her there. We left her to die.”

  “What do you mean? It sounds like she had already drowned. You just said you watched her go under the water.”

  “Yeah. I know, but we didn’t tell anyone. We left her towel and her things. We’d been drinking, and we thought we would get in trouble. Lily and I made a pact that we would never say we were there. Chloe was supposed to be sleeping over at Lily’s house that night, and we decided that we would never tell a soul. Lily would call Chloe’s mom and say she hadn’t shown up.” The conflict on his face made me want to reach over and hug him.

  “That’s what we did. Chloe ended up being reported missing. She wasn’t missing. She died in the river that afternoon, but the entire town spent the next week looking for her. Me and Lily included. It was terrible. I couldn’t look at Lily. We stopped talking. Our friendship was ruined. Both of our lives were ruined.”

  Suddenly I knew what Lily had wanted to confess to me the night she was killed. That’s why she said she was a terrible person. She had been carrying the guilt of Chloe’s death for years.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. Taylor and Lily had made a bad decision, to say the least. Again my thoughts went to Alex. I could only hope that I had given him the tools and a moral compass to make a different decision in a moment like that.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I saw Lily here. I knew why she had come.” He hung his head.

  “Why?”

  “She couldn’t live with the guilt. She told me that she’d tried everything—changed her name, changed her look, changed her job, tried to drink, self-medicate—but every night she fell asleep seeing Chloe gasping f
or one last breath. I told her I understood. I felt the same, but what could we do now? She wanted to go to the police. She wanted to come clean.”

  That matched Lily’s demeanor the night I met her. “I take it you didn’t agree?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just, like I told Lily, what would that accomplish? We weren’t responsible for Chloe’s death. It was an accident. It’s been over ten years. Why now? Would going to the police change anything? Doubtful. We would still have to live with the fact that we watched our friend die.”

  “Then what happened?”

  He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “After Lily talked to you about going to the authorities.”

  “Nothing. She ended up dead. In the river. Just like Chloe.”

  There was something eerily unnerving about the fact that Lily had met a similar fate to Chloe’s. However, if that was true, then Taylor was the most likely suspect.

  I watched him try to regain composure. He didn’t look like a killer. He looked like a young man tormented with guilt.

  “What should I do?”

  “I think you know what you have to do.”

  “Talk to the chief?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah. I guess Lily’s going to get her wish after all. The truth about Chloe is finally going to come out, and I’m the only one left to tell it.” He glanced to his table of friends. “I think I’ll skip the beer and soup and go get this over with. Thanks for listening.”

  I watched him say something to his friends and then make his exit. Why had he confessed his involvement in Chloe’s death to me? Had he really needed a listening ear, or did he have another motive? Maybe he had seen Chief Meyers hanging around the pub and thought if he told me his sob story, I would defend him. Was it the truth? Or was it that Lily came to Leavenworth on a mission to right an old wrong and Taylor silenced her?

  I shivered at the thought as I went to pour pints and serve Taylor’s friends their lunch.

  Garrett called me into the kitchen. “Sloan, you have to try this.” He handed me a taster of beer. It was still warm and would need to ferment for at least two weeks, but even in its infancy the beer was like drinking spring in a cup. Herbaceous notes hit my nose, followed by a light floral front and a clean, bright finish.

  “Well?” His face was expectant.

  “It’s delightful.” I smiled.

  “Maybe that’s what we should call it. Spring’s Delight.”

  “I like it.” I finished the taster. “The hops will be here by late afternoon, so we can start the Hopcathlon batch tomorrow, unless you want to dive in tonight.”

  “Without my partner in crime? No way. I’ll wait and brew with you tomorrow.”

  I was secretly pleased. The test batches technically didn’t require two people, but I appreciated working on them together. It was easier to take extensive notes and bounce ideas off each other. And, if I was being completely honest with myself, I also enjoyed spending time with Garrett. I was nowhere near ready to think about dating yet. My relationship with Garrett was slowly evolving from a professional partnership to a friendship, and I was happy to keep it that way for the short term.

  “I saw you and Taylor deep in conversation,” Garrett commented as he rinsed the tasting glasses in the sink. “I tried to get your attention, but it looked like whatever you were talking about was serious.”

  “It was.” I sighed and told him about Chloe’s drowning and Taylor and Lily’s pact.

  “Whoa. That’s dark stuff, Sloan.”

  “I know. It’s shaken me up. I can’t stop thinking about Alex. He’s about the same age. I can’t imagine him doing something like that, but what if I’m fooling myself?”

  “You’re not fooling yourself. Alex is a great kid.”

  I tried to smile. “Thanks. I guess it’s the idea that Taylor and Lily would be so worried about getting in trouble that they could be so cavalier about a friend’s death. Think of Chloe’s family. Her poor parents, searching for their daughter, when she was already dead.”

  Garrett placed the clean glasses on a drying rack, then he walked over to me and placed a sturdy hand on my shoulder. “Alex would never do something like that, Sloan. Never.”

  I met his gaze. It was kind yet firm. Something inside me cracked. Suddenly, salty tears streamed from my eyes. I prided myself on my ability to maintain a steely exterior, but the weight of my looming divorce, buying the cottage, the horrific potential of Otto and Ursula’s past, and Lily’s and Chloe’s deaths were too much. Garrett didn’t say a word. For that I was grateful.

  I sobbed on his shoulder. Tears spilled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I managed to mumble between sobs.

  Garrett squeezed me tighter. “Let it go, Sloan.”

  His solid arms made me collapse into him more. I let him hold me while I tried to breathe through my nose and regain control of my emotions. When I finally was able to speak in a full sentence without gasping for air, I pulled away from him.

  “I don’t know where that came from. I shouldn’t have broken down. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You can’t hold the entire world up and expect not to collapse.”

  Is that what I had been doing? I had worked so hard to create this world, this life in the village, and it was starting to collapse. How was I going to make sure that the giant fissures in my rigid foundation didn’t swallow me whole?

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  AFTER MY MELTDOWN, GARRETT SUGGESTED that I take a walk to clear my head. “Go inhale that healing mountain air, Sloan. Trust me, everything is going to be okay. You are the strongest woman—I take that back—the strongest person I’ve ever met. I know this is going to sound bad, but I’m glad to see you show some emotion. It proves that you’re at least partially human and not a total superwoman.”

  I tried to laugh.

  “I’m serious. My mom always told me that there’s nothing that fresh air and a walk in nature can’t solve. Kat has the tasting room under control. Take a walk or take the rest of the afternoon.”

  “No, no, I’ll be fine. I’ll take a little walk, but I’ll be back soon.” I hurried away before he could see more tears starting to well. What was wrong with me?

  I waved to Kat on the way out, after tugging on my snow boots and heavy coat. Hopefully, my words had sounded as breezy as I tried to make them.

  Pull it together, Sloan, I scolded myself as I stepped out into the crisp air and, without thinking, turned toward Blackbird Island. The sidewalks had been cleared. Snow was piled on the side of the street. By the time I made it to the park, the pathways were deep with snow. Each step felt heavy. In some ways, trudging through the snow was a metaphor for my life. The heavy, painful burn of every movement paralleled what felt like infinite changes in my world. I knew that part of that was due to the fact that I craved normalcy and routine. I didn’t blame my obsession on my years in foster care. But, those years spent in flux had shaped me for better and for worse. Since moving to Leavenworth, I had built a fortress around myself.

  Every fortress falls at some point. And this was that point for me.

  I didn’t have a direction I was heading in. I simply plunged through the snow without a focus. Was I having a midlife crisis? Was this normal?

  I wished I had someone older and wiser to turn to. Normally, I would have sought out Ursula’s wise counsel, but I couldn’t. I had to fix this on my own.

  Time passed in a slow blur. I wandered through the snow-covered forested trails, lost in my thoughts. Tears froze to my cheeks. My toes went numb. I didn’t care. I walked with a purpose, as if I could force away the self-doubt and anxiety with each mile logged. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of falling apart. I had to hold myself together for Alex. I owed it to him. I couldn’t let him see me like this. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault.

  I trekked on and on. At some point, I stopped when I realized that I was halfway to the Enchantments.

/>   How long had I been walking? Well over an hour.

  I looked up to see the sun beginning to sink behind the river.

  Crap.

  I was four or five miles from the village and losing light. A quick calculation of the sun’s angle told me that I had less than an hour before darkness set in.

  That was stupid, Sloan.

  I turned around and retraced my steps, picking up my pace to more like a jog. It was tough going in my snow boots.

  Why hadn’t I paid more attention to where I was going? The vast network of trails that looped through Blackbird Island were challenging to navigate in broad daylight, but in the low, dusky light, I was worried that I might accidentally take a trail that led to a dead end. Then I would have to backtrack and start over again. I knew as long as I kept the Wenatchee River to my right and the mountains behind me, I would find my way back eventually, but I should have turned around long ago.

  I knew the trail system well. Mac and I used to load Alex into a baby backpack and hike through the Enchantments every weekend. Some of my best memories of the three of us were on these trails. Once Alex could walk, Mac and I would take turns carrying him on our backs and then give him long stretches to run free on the narrow dirt pathways. He would stop and pick up collections of sticks and rocks. We would hike until his little pudgy legs wore out and then take a snack break under the shade of the ancient evergreen trees. I loved the smell of the baking pine needles in the summer and the way the light would filter through the canopy of brilliant green treetops.

  I couldn’t believe I’d gone so far without thinking about the return trip. That’s what you get for having a breakdown, Sloan.

  At least I had brought my cell phone with me. There wasn’t service deep in the woods, but if nothing else, I could use the flashlight app to help illuminate a pathway home. The only other good piece of news was that I didn’t have to contend with bears, since they were likely curled up in nearby caves for a deep winter slumber. This area in the summer was known to have frequent bear sightings.