Happy Hour

by Anina Collins

  No amount of evidence would ever convince me that my father had any part in Marcus Tyne’s death. Donny could run every test known to mankind, and it wouldn’t matter if every single one showed he’d died from something he drank at McGuire’s. I still wouldn’t believe my father had done it.

  Joe McGuire was capable of many things, and I knew he wasn’t a perfect man. But he wasn’t a murderer, and no one would ever be able to convince me otherwise.

  Chapter Seven

  Mid-afternoon on a Tuesday had never been a busy time for the bar business in Sunset Ridge, but when I walked into McGuire’s after leaving the police station, I stopped dead at the sight of my father all alone there. Everything I feared this case would do to him had already begun.

  “Hey, Dad!” I said in my cheeriest voice as I hopped onto a barstool. “What’s new?”

  He tore his attention away from the replay of some baseball game and looked over at me. Smiling as always, he walked down to where I sat. “Poppy! I didn’t expect to see you sitting there. No work at any of your jobs today?”

  “I told Howard I’d be working from home for a couple days, and Alex is waist-deep in paperwork, so there was nothing for me to do with him today either. So I figured I’d come see how my favorite guy is doing.”

  My father looked around his empty bar and shrugged. “I’m okay. Things seem a little slow today, but I’m sure they’ll pick up.”

  Joe McGuire, the eternal optimist.

  “I bet it will. It’s not like you’re always slammed in the middle of the day on weekdays, right?” I asked, truly hoping the answer would be no.

  He shook his head and lifted the coffee pot to offer me a cup. “Usually only my regulars are here around this time, but between doctors’ appointments and handling the chores their wives give them each day, that varies too.”

  I slid off the stool and came around the back of the bar to take the pot from him. “Let me get that, Dad. I don’t need you to wait on me. You want a cup?”

  “No, no. You know I don’t handle the caffeine as well as you do, sweetheart. I’ll stick with my water,” he said with a smile, stepping around me while I poured myself my third cup of coffee for the day.

  As he sat down at the bar, I suddenly had an idea. “Hey, Dad, why don’t you take the day off? I’m already back here ready for when anyone comes in, and you know you can trust me to run the place like the well-oiled machine you’ve made it. Why not take a mental health day? You could go see a ball game. Are the Orioles in town?”

  Without even having to think about it, he shook his head. “Nope. They’re doing a three-game stand in New York this week. I don’t want to take a day off anyway. I have things I have to do here.”

  I looked up and down the bar and saw a spotless work area. “Like what? You’ve gotten this place to the point where it practically runs itself. Working here is more socializing than anything else.”

  My father knew I was right. Despite that, he waved off my protests. “Well, I have to put the air conditioners in my windows upstairs. That’s something I have to do here. So you see, I can’t take a mental day.”

  Chuckling, I corrected him. “A mental health day, Dad. A mental day is something entirely different. So go do things in your house and I’ll stay here and man the bar. If there are any problems, you’ll be right upstairs. I promise to come get you if I need you.”

  He tilted his head and stared at me for a moment, like he wanted to figure out what I was up to. “What’s this all about, Poppy? My birthday isn’t for another five months, so I know you’re not trying to give me the bum’s rush so you can plan a surprise party for me. So why are you so eager to see me anywhere but right where I belong?”

  I turned away to avoid the intense gaze of his blue eyes and looked up at the baseball game playing on the TV. “I’m not trying to do that, Dad. I just figured I’d offer to watch the bar so you could have a day off. Just trying to be a good daughter.”

  “You’re always a good daughter, sweetheart, but I get the feeling you’re treating me with kid gloves because of what happened last night. You don’t have to, though. I’m fine. Really.”

  As he talked, I watched the right fielder catch a ball and throw it on a frozen rope to the second baseman to get the runner out just in time. I’d spent countless hours with my father watching baseball when I was a little girl. The skill and talent of the players and how pure the enjoyment I got from watching them always impressed me. I’d gotten that love of the sport from him.

  Now that he needed me for the first real time since my mother died, I couldn’t even convince him to take a day off and get away so he wouldn’t have to witness the demise of his business.

  I watched the game for another few seconds as I considered telling him the truth, but he beat me to it. “You don’t have to worry about me or this bar, Poppy. Whatever happens, we’ll both get through it just fine.”

  Again with the optimism.

  Turning around to face him, I saw he truly believed he’d weather this storm like he’d done all the others. I only wished I could be that sure.

  “I’m just worried about you. That’s all. I don’t want you to have to sit here all alone if no one shows up today because of Marcus Tyne’s death right outside the bar.”

  My father took hold of my hands and smiled like what I’d said had any good to it whatsoever. “Honey, I’ve gotten through lots of ups and downs in this town. When I first opened this bar, the very women who meet in my back room every second Tuesday of the month started a petition to close me down. Sunset Ridge’s very own temperance movement.”

  This news stunned me. I’d never heard anything from him or my mother about the town busybodies trying to get rid of the bar.

  “I can see by the look on your face that you’re surprised. Don’t be. Your father’s much tougher than you think he is. I fought those ladies tooth and nail for months at council meetings where they threw everything from the Bible to ridiculous antiquated town ordinances at me, but I stood strong. And in the end, people in Sunset Ridge came to understand I wasn’t trying to open a den of inequity or anything more than just a place where people could have a drink and watch some sports.”

  My father never ceased to amaze me. Shaking my head, I smiled as I imagined him going up against those nosy women and their hypocritical attacks. I knew why they didn’t want any bar in town. They worried their husbands would have someplace they’d rather be than at home with them listening to their hurtful gossip about everyone else in town.

  “I had no idea, Dad. I always thought McGuire’s had been a staple in town since you won it off Campbell Grave in that poker game.”

  “No, and when I won it the ladies were in the middle of doing their best to shut him down too. I guess I inherited the issue with them when I won this place.”

  Leaning over the bar, I kissed him on the cheek. “I just worry about you. You’re my father, so I don’t want anyone to hurt you or this bar because I know how much it means to you. That’s all this was.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m a resilient guy, Poppy. You don’t live as long as I have without growing a thick skin. I know how the people in this town can be. I’ve seen it firsthand. At first, many people didn’t dare come here because those women threatened them with their fire and brimstone about the evils of alcohol, but they came around in the end because I stuck to my guns. Then when your mother died, many of the people who acted like they wanted to throw themselves into her grave with her basically disappeared right after the funeral and even though I needed to work more than ever before to take my mind off everything, many days and nights this bar was empty.”

  “I didn’t know, Dad. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Elizabeth. I had you, so I didn’t need anyone else, as it turns out. But I want you to remember something. This bar isn’t my life. It’s where I work, but I’ve done this long enough that if I had to give it up tomorrow, I’d be okay. I’ve squirreled away enough money for retirement,
and although I’d miss my regulars who are more friends than customers, I’d be fine. We’d just have to see each other in other places in town. So don’t worry about me.”

  Taking one last sip of coffee, I realized I’d been all wrong about things. My father had everything in perspective, like I wished I could. He’d be fine, and if McGuire’s suffered because of the Tyne investigation, he’d weather that storm like all the others.

  If he could get through the self-appointed morality police in town, he could handle a little downturn in business until people moved on from the newest crime in Sunset Ridge.

  “I love you, Dad. You’re my idol, you know that?” I said as I came around the bar to hug him.

  He squeezed me tightly to him and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for worrying about me, honey. You’re sweet.”

  I pulled back from him and smiled. “I guess I better go since I’m obviously not needed here. Maybe Alex needs me with the case.”

  “How is that going, by the way?”

  “We’re still waiting on the autopsy results. Donny seems to be having difficulty figuring out what killed Marcus Tyne, but from what he says, whatever it was caused every one of his organs to shut down.”

  My father recoiled at the sound of what poor Marcus Tyne had gone through before he died. “Oh, God.”

  “I know, but don’t think about it. I’ll let you know what I find out from Alex once the coroner contacts him. Until then, I’m going to go home and do some work for Howard so he doesn’t have any reason to give me a hard time when I go back to the paper tomorrow.”

  Two of my father’s regulars appeared in the doorway as I turned to leave, and from behind me, he said, “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  I waved goodbye and said, “Yeah, yeah. Talk to you later, Dad!”

  Maybe there was something to that eternal optimism thing after all.

  * * *

  Early Wednesday morning as I sat at my little kitchen table enjoying my first cup of coffee for the day, Alex showed up ready to tackle the Tyne case. Practically bounding through my door, he sat down across from me and placed a sheet of paper down between us.

  “The results are in. Are you ready to start investigating this case?”

  Looking down at my pale blue and white shorts with clouds and sheep on them and the matching blue t-shirt I’d worn to bed the night before, I could honestly say I was the furthest thing from being ready. On top of what I was wearing, I hadn’t even showered yet, so my hair looked like something may have begun to build a nest in it overnight while I slept.

  “Uh, no, but how about you tell me what killed our victim while I enjoy my coffee and then I’ll do my best to hurry so we can get out there and solve this case?”

  Alex’s eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Okay, you have a point there, although I think those might be the most adorable pajamas I’ve ever seen on an adult. They might make our suspects want to answer my questions more freely because you just look so cute wearing them.”

  Leveling my gaze on him, I shot him my “It’s early, so jokes aren’t really going to work” look. “Funny. So what did Donny find out?”

  “Antifreeze,” Alex said as he sat back against the wooden chair and folded his arms across his chest.

  I heard the word but couldn’t understand what he meant. Was this some cop keyword or lingo like ten-four or B and E?

  “What? What does that mean?”

  He slid the sheet of paper toward him and began reading. “Ethylene glycol was found in deadly amounts in the victim.” Alex looked up and tilted his head left and then right. “It says a lot more and I paraphrased, but what killed Marcus Tyne was antifreeze.”

  Immediately, I understood how bad this could be for my father. “Antifreeze? That means it had to be put into his drink.”

  The implication seemed to be lost on my partner. “Probably, but I’m sure it could be found in something like soup or pudding.”

  Wide awake now, I jumped up from the table and tossed the rest of my coffee into the sink before quickly rinsing my cup. I turned around to see Alex studying Donny’s report, as if he hadn’t just practically indicted my father with his announcement.

  “How can you just sit there like that after what you just said?” I asked, my panic spiraling out of control.

  He looked up at me completely confused by my question. “What do you mean? This is good news, Poppy. My guess is this is what made Gerald Engels sick too. You remember, Gerald, the guy whose life you basically saved? What’s wrong?”

  Barely fighting back the tears, I explained, “Marcus Tyne was found dead right outside McGuire’s, and now you tell me he was poisoned by someone putting antifreeze in his drink? Alex, isn’t it obvious? All the signs point to my father as a suspect!”

  Hearing me spell it out, Alex instantly stood from the table and came over to take me into his arms. As I reveled in the feel of him holding me even as my emotions ran wild, he said quietly, “Poppy, that isn’t obvious to anyone but you. I promise you it didn’t even cross my mind. Your father isn’t a murderer and he had no reason to spike a stranger’s drink with something that would kill him. I’m more interested in Gerald Engels, to be honest, since it was his car that Marcus was found dead in.”

  I looked up at him, hoping I’d see in his face he believed what he’d said. Searching his dark eyes, I saw his words were genuine. “I’m just worried about my father. Nothing like this has ever happened, and when I was at the bar yesterday, it was practically empty. I don’t want this to hurt him or his business.”

  Smoothing my messy bedhead hair back from my face, he smiled down at me. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I passed McGuire’s when I was driving home last night and the place was packed with cars all over the place on the street. I was surprised one of his neighbors didn’t call the cops on him.”

  Packed? That seemed odd since the beginning of the week was generally the bar’s slow time. “Tuesdays are never a busy night there. Maybe he got some spillover from his Cinco de Mayo promotion.”

  “My guess is it had more to do with our victim than the fifth of May. People are nosy and probably wanted to be at the place where someone died.”

  “That’s awful!” I said in horror at the very idea of that kind of rubbernecking.

  “That’s how people are, Poppy. You know that. Think of every crime scene we’ve ever been at and think about the crowds that form outside. Craig’s job on the force is probably the most secure of us all because he’s the guy who has to deal with keeping the onlookers back away so we can do our job. It’s human nature to want to know, especially about the gruesome parts of life.”

  I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Just the thought of people wanting to get some kind of thrill from being close to where someone died bothered me.

  Pulling away from Alex, I shook my head. “People disgust me sometimes.”

  He slid his arm around me and drew back into him. “Speaking of people, have you heard from Jared since you saw him at The Grounds?”

  Now I saw in his eyes genuine jealousy. He waited for me to answer his question, but I couldn’t help but think he looked cute in that shade of green.

  “No, why would I?”

  Honestly, I doubted my ex would bother to take the time to contact me again after the cool reception I’d given him the day before.

  “Because he seemed pretty interested in catching up again,” Alex answered, parroting the exact words Jared had used as he left us sitting in the back of the coffee shop.

  Pressing my hands to his tan Henley and loving the feel of his muscular chest beneath it, I smiled up at him. “I don’t care about Jared. I only care about the incredibly sexy Sunset Ridge policeman standing right in front of me.”

  “Oh yeah?” he teased with a sparkle in his eye at my compliment.

  “Yeah, and you know what? I’ve never seen you jealous like this. It think it might make you even cuter, if that’s possible.”

  Alex wrinkled his nos
e and shook his head. “Jealous? No way.”

  I stood on my toes and kissed him softly. Still touching his lips with mine, I said, “You have no reason to be jealous.”

  Cradling my face, he nodded. “I’m the furthest thing from jealous, but I can’t deny he has that look I’m sure many women like—the athletic, high school jock look.”

  “I prefer retired Baltimore cop now small town guy look better. Plus, you possess so many things beyond looks that he’ll never have.”

  “Like?”

  As the worry about my father returned, I hung my head. “Like you actually care when I’m upset about something.”

  He gently lifted my chin so I was looking up into his brown eyes full of worry about me and kissed me sweetly on the lips. “Don’t worry about your father. He’s going to be fine. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not even a consideration for my list of suspects. Since I know he won’t be on yours either, it’s nothing to even waste time thinking about.”

  “Okay. Well, I better get ready so we can this investigation going, right?”

  Alex slid his hands down my neck and let them rest on my shoulders, and his expression changed like he had other things on his mind. “The hospital said we wouldn’t be able to speak to Gerald Engels until this afternoon, so I think we have a few minutes to spare.”

  “Don’t you think we should get moving on the case, though?” I asked, feigning innocence about what he truly wanted.

  “I’m not officially on the clock until three this afternoon…”

  He didn’t bother to finish his sentence, and he didn’t have to. As he pressed a kiss onto my mouth so long and deep it made my toes curl, I knew exactly what he meant.

  Chapter Eight

  Alex and I arrived at the hospital to see Gerald Engels after they notified us he was awake and alert enough to talk to the police. As we rode up to the third floor, my partner remained silent as he stared straight ahead into the silver paneled elevator door, like he had something on his mind.